Alice’s fear vanished the moment the Texan appeared.  His air of absolute self-confidence in his ability to handle a situation compelled the confidence of others.

“Aren’t your nerves ever shaken?  Aren’t you ever afraid?” she asked.

Tex smiled:  “Nerve ain’t in not bein’ afraid,” he answered evasively, “but in not lettin’ folks know when you’re afraid.”

Another gate was opened, and as they passed around the scrub-capped spur of a ridge that projected into the widening valley, the girl drew her horse up sharply and pointed ahead.

“Oh!  A little lake!” she cried enthusiastically.  “See how the moonlight shimmers on the tiny waves.”

Heavy and low from the westward came an ominous growl of thunder.

“Yes.  An’ there’ll be somethin’ besides moonlight a-shimmerin’ around here directly.  That ain’t exactly a lake.  It’s Johnson’s irrigation reservoir.  If we could get about ten miles below here before the storm hits, we can hole up in a rock cave ’til she blows over.  The creek valley narrows down to a canyon where it cuts through the last ridge of mountains.

“Hit ‘er up a little, Bat.  We’ll try an’ make the canyon!”

A flash of lightning illumined the valley, and glancing upward, Alice saw that the mass of black clouds was almost overhead.  The horses were forced into a run as the hills reverberated to the mighty roll of the thunder.  They were following a well-defined bridle trail and scarcely slackened their pace as they splashed in and out of the water where the trail crossed and recrossed the creek.  One lightning flash succeeded another with such rapidity that the little valley was illuminated almost to the brightness of day, and the thunder reverberated in one continuous roar.

With the buildings of Johnson’s ranch left safely behind, Alice’s concern for Endicott’s well-being cooled perceptibly.

“He needn’t to have been so hateful, just because I laughed at him,” she thought, and winced at a lightning flash.  Her lips pressed tighter.  “I hate thunder-storms—­to be out in them.  I bet we’ll all be soaked and—­” There was a blinding flash of light, the whole valley seemed filled with a writhing, twisting rope of white fire, and the deafening roar of thunder that came simultaneously with the flash made the ground tremble.  It was as though the world had exploded beneath their feet, and directly in the forefront the girl saw a tall dead cottonwood split in half and topple sidewise.  And in the same instant she caught a glimpse of Endicott’s face.  It was very white.  “He’s afraid,” she gritted, and at the thought her own fear vanished, and in its place came a wild spirit of exhilaration.  This was life.  Life in the raw of which she had read and dreamed but never before experienced.  Her horse stopped abruptly.  The Texan had dismounted and was pulling at the huge fragment of riven trunk that barred the trail.