d eyes flashed
imperiously at him. "It doesn't matter who I am. You'll march to town in
front of my horse."

"Maybe so."

The voice of the sick man began to babble querulously. Both of those
outside listened.

"He's awake," the girl said. "Bring him out here and let me see him."

Billie had an instinct that sometimes served him well. He rose promptly.

"Para sirvir usted" ("At your service"), he murmured.

"Don't try to start anything. I'll have you covered every second."

"I believe you. It won't be necessary to demonstrate, ma'am."

The cowpuncher carried his friend out from the cave and put him down
gently in the sand.

"Why, he's only a boy!" she cried in surprise.

"He was man enough to go up against half a dozen 'Paches alone to save
Pauline Roubideau," Billie said simply.

She looked up with quick interest. "I've heard that story. Is it true?"

"It's true. And he was man enough to fight it out to a finish against two
bad men yesterday."

"But he can't be more than eighteen." She watched for a moment the flush
of fever in his soft cheeks. "Did he really kill Dave and Hugh Roush?
Or was it you?"

"He did it."

"I hate a killer!" she blazed unexpectedly.

"Does he look like a killer?" asked Prince gently.

"No, he doesn't. That makes it worse."

"Did you know that Dave Roush ruined his sister's life in a fiendish
way?"

"I expect there's another side to that story," she retorted.

"This boy was fourteen at the time. His father swore him to vengeance an'
Jim followed his enemies for years. He never had a doubt but that he
was doin' right."

She put her rifle down impulsively. "Why don't you keep his face sponged?
Bring me water."

The Texan put his hat into requisition again for a bucket. With her
handkerchief the girl sponged the face and the hands. The cold water
stopped for a moment the delirious muttering of the young man. But the
big eyes that stared into hers did not associate his nurse with the
present.

"I done remembered you, 'Lindy, like I promised. I'm a-followin' them
scalawags yet," he murmured.

"His sister's name was Melindy," explained Prince.

The girl nodded. She was rubbing gently the boy's wrist with her wet
handkerchief.

"It's getting dark," she told Billie in her sharp, decisive way. "Get
your fire lit--a big one. I've got some cooking to do."

Further orders were waiting for him as soon as he had the camp-fire
going. "You'll find my horse tied to a live-oak