This new thing surged through him and over him with all
the blind, brutal, compelling force of a mighty tidal wave. It
battered down and swept away the frail barriers of his new-found
gentleness. Again he was the Mucker--hating the artificial
wall of social caste which separated him from this girl;
but now he was ready to climb the wall, or, better still, to
batter it down with his huge fists. But the time was not yet--
first he must get Barbara to a place of safety.
On and on they went. The night grew cold. Far ahead
there sounded the occasional pop of a rifle. Billy wondered
what it could mean and as they approached the ranch and he
discovered that it came from that direction he hastened their
steps to even greater speed than before.
"Somebody's shootin' up the ranch," he volunteered.
"Wonder who it could be."
"Suppose it is your friend and general?" asked the girl.
Billy made no reply. They reached the river and as Billy
knew not where the fords lay he plunged in at the point at
which the water first barred their progress and dragging the
girl after him, plowed bull-like for the opposite shore. Where
the water was above his depth he swam while Barbara clung
to his shoulders. Thus they made the passage quickly and
safely.
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