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224 sengers escaped only by what they chose to term a miracle.

And a minor miracle of fact was already at work in their behalf, though they were unconscious of it. Two hundred feet above the trail two men were working with desperate haste at some mysterious business, though none noticed them.

Only the chauffeur was aware of a woman running down the hillside at an angle, to intercept the car several hundred yards from the mouth of the pass. As it drew near the spot where she paused the head of the pursuing party swept into the mouth of the ravine.

And then a great explosion rent the peaceful hush of night, that till then had been profaned only by the spattering cracks of the revolver fusillade. From the side of the hill directly opposite the mouth of the pass shot forth a wide sheet of dusky flame.

As the roar of dynamite subsided the entire side of the hill slid ponderously down, choking the ravine with débris to the depth of thirty or forty feet and burying the leaders of the pursuit beyond hope of rescue.

Only an instant later the motor-car jolted to a bait, and Rose and Barcus were standing beside the door, jabbering joyful greetings mixed with incoherent explanations of the manner in which they had come to seek shelter for the night in the prospector's shack,