“No!” answered Grace with emphasis.
The woman shrugged her shoulders.
“Cut them loose,” she ordered. “They can’t ride thet way without fallin’ off. You women! If you try to run away, you’ll be shot, thet’s all,” warned Belle as Bud severed the ropes that held the hands of the two girls.
“Git up! Both of you. Be lively ’bout it, too,” he ordered, pointing to one of the horses.
Grace took all the time in mounting that she dared, and Emma crowded into the saddle behind her.
“Give the critter his haid. He knows where to go better’n you do, I reckon,” advised Bud, swinging into his own saddle.
The woman rode up and took the lead, Bud falling in behind Grace and Emma. Grace saw one man ride forward and join Belle, while still another remained behind, standing by his horse. Evidently he was not going with them.
The party then started up the canyon, the ponies now and then breaking into a trot, as the footing permitted. Soon after the start, they began climbing the mountain side, along what Grace realized was a narrow trail, too narrow for safety, and on which the ordinarily sure-footed ponies slipped and stumbled perilously.
“Tell me what occurred,” whispered Grace to her companion.
“I was picking flowers when that woman caught hold of me. I never heard her approach, and she nearly scared me out of my wits when she grabbed me and clapped a hand over my mouth. Grace, I overheard the woman and that fellow Bud talking, and I learned some things. You can’t guess why they have stolen us.”