he held his hand against the heart of the
wounded man he was not sure that he could detect a beating.

From the river he brought water in his hat and splashed it into the white
face. He undid the shoulder bandages, soaked them in cold water, and
rebound the wound. Between the clenched teeth he forced a few drops of
whiskey from his flask.

The eyelids fluttered and slowly opened.

"Where are we, Billie?" the sick man asked; then added: "How did we get
away from 'em?"

"Went into the brush an' doubled back to the river. I'm goin' to hunt a
place where we can lie hid for a few days."

"Oh, I'll be all right by mornin'. Did I fall off my hawss?"

"Yes. I had to turn your sorrel loose. Soon as I've picked a permanent
camp I'll have to let mine go too. Some one would be sure to stumble on
it an' go to guessin'."

After a moment the sick man spoke quietly. "You're a good pal, Billie. I
haven't known many men would take a long chance like this for a fellow
they hadn't met a month ago."

"I'm not forgettin' how you rode up Escondido when I asked you to go."

"You got a lot of sabe, too. You don't go bullin' Into a fight when
there's a good reason for stayin' out. At Tolleson's if you had drawn
yore gun when the shootin' was on, the whole Lazy S M would have pitched
in an' riddled us both. They kept out because you did. That gave me a
chance to come through alive."

The Texan registered embarrassment with a grin. "Yes, I'm the boy wonder
of the Brazos," he admitted.

A faint, unexpected gleam of humor lay for a moment in the eyes of the
sick man. "I got you where the wool's short, Billie. I can throw bouquets
at you an' you got to stand hitched because I'm sick. Doc says to humor
me. If I holler for the moon you climb up an' get it."

"I'll rope it for you," assented the cowpuncher. "How's the game
shoulder?"

"Hurts like Heligoland. Say, ain't I due for one of them sleep powders
Doc fixed up so careful?"

His companion gave him one, after which he folded his coat and put it
under the head of Clanton, Over him he threw a saddle blanket.

"Back soon," he promised.

The sick man nodded weakly.

Billie swung to the saddle and turned down the river. Unfortunately the
country here was an open one. Along the sandy shore of the stream the
mesquite was thin. There was no soapweed and very little cactus. The
terrain of the hill country farther back was rougher, more full of
pockets, and covered with heavier brush. B