ngly. "You know where--If you could--"

A sudden moisture dimmed her eyes, but she winked it resolutely back.
"There's a little spring the other side of the trail," she explained. "You
lie quietly and I'll be back in just a minute."

Stumbling in her haste, she turned and ran past the buttress and on toward
the trail. Not a hundred feet beyond, a tiny spring bubbled up in the
rocks, and dropping down beside it, the girl jerked the pins from her hat
and let the cool water trickle into the capacious crown of the Stetson. It
seemed to take an eternity to fill, but at length the water ran over the
brim, and carefully guarding her precious burden, she hurried back again.

The man was watching for her--eagerly, longingly, with an underlying touch
of apprehensive doubt, as if he half feared to find her merely one of
those dreamlike phantoms that had haunted him through the long, painful
hours. As the girl sank down beside him, there was a look in his eyes that
sent a strange thrill through her and caused her hands to tremble,
sending a little stream of water trickling over the soggy hat-brim to the
ground.

She steadied herself resolutely and bending forward held the hat against
Buck's lips. As he plunged his face into it and began to suck up the water
in great, famished gulps, the girl's lips quivered, and her eyes, resting
on the matted tangle of dark hair, filled with sudden tears.

CHAPTER XXII

NERVE

With a deep sigh, Buck lifted his face from the water and regarded her
gratefully.

"That just about saved my life," he murmured.

Mary Thorne carefully set down the improvised water-bucket, its contents
much depleted, and taking out her handkerchief, soaked it thoroughly.

"I'm awfully stupid about first aid," she said. "But your head must be
badly cut, and--"

"Don't," he protested, as the moist bit of cambric touched his hair.
"You'll spoil it."

"As if that mattered!" she retorted. "Just rest your head on your arms;
it'll be easier."

With deft, gentle touches, she cleaned away the blood and grime, parting
his thick hair now and then with delicate care. Her hands were steady now,
and having steeled herself for anything, the sight of a jagged,
ugly-looking cut on his scalp did not make her flinch. She even bent
forward a little to examine it more closely, and saw that a ridge of
clotted blood had temporarily stopped its oozing.

"I think I'd better let it alone," she said aloud. "I might start it