we better go any farther with this thing, Yorky.”
“No, I don’t reckon you had,” cut in Dick sharply. “I’ll not stand for it.”
Again the footsteps of a running man reached them. It was Siegfried. He plunged into the group like a wild bull, shook the hair out of his eyes, and planted himself beside Fraser. With one backward buffet of his great arm he sent Johnson heels over head. He caught Yorky by the shoulders, strong man though the latter was, and shook him till his teeth rattled, after which he flung him reeling a dozen yards to the ground. The Norwegian was reaching for Dick when Fraser stopped him.
“That’s enough of a clean-up right now, Sig. Dick butted in like you to help me,” he explained.
“The durned coyotes!” roared the big Norseman furiously, leaping at Leroy and tossing him over his head as an enraged bull does. He turned upon the other three, shaking his tangled mane, but they were already in flight.
“I’ll show them. I’ll show them,” he kept saying as he came back to the man he had rescued.
“You’ve showed them plenty, Sig. Cut out the rough house before you maim some of these gents who didn’t invite you to their party.”
The ranger felt the earth sway beneath him as he spoke. His wound had been torn loose in the fight, and was bleeding. Limply he leaned against the tree for support.
It was at this moment he caught sight of Arlie and Briscoe as they ran up. Involuntarily he straightened almost jauntily. The girl looked at him with that deep, eager look of fear he had seen before, and met that unconquerable smile of his.
The rope was still round his neck and the coat was stripped from his back. He was white to the lips, and she could see he could scarce stand, even with the support of the pine trunk. His face was bruised and battered. His hat was gone; and hidden somewhere in his crisp short hair was a cut from which blood dripped to the forehead. The bound arm had been torn from its bandages in the unequal battle he had fought. But for all his desperate plight he still carried the invincible look that nothing less than death can rob some men of.
The fretted moonlight, shifting with the gentle motion of the foliage above, fell full upon him now and showed a wet, red stain against the white shirt. Simultaneously outraged nature collapsed, and he began to sink to the ground.
Arlie gave a little cry and ran forward. Before he reached the ground he had fainted; yet scarcely before she was on her knees beside him with his head in her arms.
“Bring water, Dick, and tell Doc Lee to come at once. He’ll be in the back room smoking. Hurry!” She looked fiercely round upon the men assembled. “I think they have killed him. Who did this? Was it you, Yorky? Was it you that murdered him?”
“I bane t’ink it take von hoondred of them to do it,” said Siegfried. “Dat fallar, Johnson, he bane at the bottom of it.”
“Then why didn’t you kill him? Aren’t you Steve’s friend? Didn’t he save your life?” she panted, passion burning in her beautiful eyes.
Siegfried nodded. “I bane Steve’s friend, yah! And Ay bane kill Johnson eef Steve dies.”
Briscoe, furious at this turn of the tide which had swept Arlie’s sympathies back to his enemy, followed Struve as he sneaked deeper into the shadow of the trees. The convict was nursing a sprained wrist when Jed reached him.
“What do you think you’ve been trying to do, you sap-headed idiot?” Jed demanded. “Haven’t you sense enough to choose a better time than one when the whole settlement is gathered to help him? And can’t you ever make a clean job of it, you chuckle-minded son of a greaser?”
Struve turned, snarling, on him. “That’ll be enough from you, Briscoe. I’ve stood about all I’m going to stand just now.”
“You’ll stand for whatever I say,” retorted Jed. “You’ve cooked your goose in this valley by to-night’s fool play. I’m the only man that can pull you through. Bite on that fact, Mr. Struve, before you unload your bile on me.”
The convict’s heart sank. He felt it to be the truth. The last thing he had heard was Siegfried’s threat to kill him.
Whether Fraser lived or died he was in a precarious position and he knew it.
“I know you’re my friend, Jed,” he whined. “I’ll do what you say. Stand by me and I’ll sure work with you.”
“Then if you take my advice you’ll sneak down to the corral, get your horse, and light out for the run. Lie there till I see you.”
“And Siegfried?”
“The Swede won’t trouble you unless this Texan dies. I’ll send you word in time if he does.”
Later a skulking shadow sneaked into the corral and out again. Once out of hearing, it leaped to the back of the horse and galloped wildly into the night.
Chapter XIV.
Howard Explains
Two horsemen rode into Millikan’s Draw and drew up in front of the big ranch house. To the girl who stepped to the porch to meet them they gave friendly greeting. One of them asked:
“How’re things coming, Arlie?”
“Better and better every day, Dick. Yesterday the doctor said he was out of danger.”
“It’s been a tough fight for Steve,” the other broke in. “Proper nursing is what pulled him through. Doc says so.”
“Did he say that, Alec? I’ll always think it was doc. He fought for that life mighty hard, boys.”
Alec Howard nodded: “Doc Lee’s the stuff. Here he comes now, talking of angels.”
Doctor Lee dismounted and grinned. “Which of you lads is she making love to now?”
Arlie laughed. “He can’t understand that I don’t make love to anybody but him,” she explained to the younger men.
“She never did to me, doc,” Dick said regretfully.
“No, we were just talking about you, doc.”
“Fire ahead, young woman,” said the doctor, with assumed severity. “I’m here to defend myself now.”
“Alec was calling you an angel, and I was laughing at him,” said the girl demurely.
“An angel—huh!” he snorted.
“I never knew an angel that chewed tobacco, or one that could swear the way you do when you’re mad,” continued Arlie.
“I don’t reckon your acquaintance with angels is much greater than mine, Miss Arlie Dillon. How’s the patient?”
“He’s always wanting something to eat, and he’s cross as a bear.”
“Good for him! Give him two weeks now and he’ll be ready to whip his weight in wild cats.”
The doctor disappeared within, and presently they could hear his loud, cheerful voice pretending to berate the patient.
Arlie sat down on the top step of the porch.
“Boys, I don’t know what I would have done if he had died. It would have been all my fault. I had no business to tell him the names of you boys that rode in the raid, and afterward to tell you that I told him,” she accused herself.
“No, you had no business to tell him, though it happens he’s safe as a bank vault,” Howard commented.
“I don’t know how I came to do it,” the girl continued. “Jed had made me suspicious of him, and then I found out something fine he had done for me. I wanted him to know I trusted him. That was the