"The Pioneers will get over it, Tim," she rejoined. "They've
swallowed a lot in their time. Heaven's gate will have to be pretty
wide to let in a real Pioneer," she added. "He takes up so much room--
ah, Timothy Denton!" she added, with an outburst of whimsical merriment.
"It hasn't spoiled you--being converted, has it?" he, said, and gave a
quick little laugh, which somehow did more for his ancient cause with her
than all he had ever said or done. Then he stepped outside and swung
into his saddle.
It had been a hard and anxious ride, but Tim had won, and was keeping his
promise. The night had fallen before he got to the mountains, which he
and the Pioneers had seen the Faith Healer enter. They had had four
miles' start of Tim, and had ridden fiercely, and they entered the gulch
into which the refugee had disappeared still two miles ahead.
The invincibles had seen Tim coming, but they had determined to make a
sure thing of it, and would themselves do what was necessary with the
impostor, and take no chances. So they pressed their horses, and he saw
them swallowed by the trees, as darkness gathered.
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