New courage and strength came to Connie. A touch of her spurs sent Silvertail leaping after a rangy Longhorn at the very head of the herd.
With all her might Connie brought the slicker across the animal’s face. He whirled to the right and the herd followed. Keeping Silvertail between the frantic animals and the dark precipice Connie uttered a little prayer. She hoped fervently that the cattle would turn at a sharp enough angle to avoid the cliff. A flash of lightning showed that her horse was running not more than thirty feet parallel to the brink.
As they raced along Connie felt the herd edging sideways toward the precipice, slowly pressing her mount closer and closer to destruction. Desperately she spurred Silvertail alongside the leading steer and slashed with her slicker at the animal’s head. The steer swerved in the opposite direction carrying his blind followers clear of the brink. Connie’s heart leaped. She had won!
Although the danger was past, the work was by no means done. It took a half hour of hard riding before the animals could be halted in their mad run. But at last they were milling again so that the cowboys could hold them by riding slowly around the herd.
Not until then did Connie have an opportunity to speak with Enid.
“You were wonderful,” she told the girl. “I’ll never forget it—never. You risked your life to save my cattle.”
“I did no more than Lefty or Alkali or any of the boys,” Enid answered quietly. “Besides, I owe you a great deal, Connie. I must tell you about Forest Blakeman. He has deliberately plotted to ruin you.”
“I know,” Connie responded. “I learned the truth tonight when I saw him shoot into the herd.”
“Then he was the one who stampeded the cattle! What a criminal thing to do! But it is in keeping with his character.”
“Tell me everything you know about Blakeman,” Connie urged.