n, watching her mutinous
face, "if you did, Tex would have a posse out hunting for you in no time.
Sooner or later they'd find this place, and you know what that would mean.
I'm feeling better every minute--honest. By to-morrow I'll be able to
hobble around and look after myself fine."

His logic was irresistible, and for a time she sat silent, torn by a
conflict of emotions. Then all at once her face brightened.

"I've got it!" she cried. "Why can't I send Bud out? He's to be trusted
surely?"

Buck's eyes lit up in a way that brought to the girl a curious, jealous
pang.

"Bud? Sure, he's all right. That's one fine idea. You'll have to be
careful Lynch doesn't know where he's going, though."

"I'll manage that all right."

Reluctant to go, yet feeling that she ought to make haste, the girl got
out some crackers and placed them, with a pail of water, within his reach.
Then she listened while Stratton told her of a short cut out to the middle
pasture.

"I understand," she nodded. "You'll promise to be careful, won't you? Bud
ought to be here in a couple of hours, though he may be delayed a little
longer. You'd better not try and move until he comes."

"I won't," Buck answered. "I'm too darn comfortable."

"Well, good-by, then," she said briefly, moving over to her horse.

"Good-by; and--thank you a thousand times!"

She made no answer, but a faint, enigmatic smile quivered for an instant
on her lips as she turned the stirrup and swung herself into the saddle.
When Freckles had reached a little distance, she glanced back and waved
her hand. From where he lay Stratton could see almost the whole length of
the little canyon, and as long as the slight figure on the big gray horse
remained in sight, his eyes followed her intently, a sort of wistful
hunger in their depths. But when she disappeared, the man's head fell back
limply on the blankets and his eyes closed.

CHAPTER XXIII

WHERE THE WHEEL TRACKS LED

Bud Jessup removed a battered stew-pan from the fire and set it aside to
cool a little.

"Well, by this time I reckon friend Tex is all worked up over what's
become of me," he remarked in a tone of satisfaction, deftly shifting the
coffee-pot to a bed of deeper coals. "He's sure tried often enough to get
rid of me, but I don't guess he quite relishes my droppin' out of sight
like this."

Buck Stratton, his back resting comfortably against a rock a little way
from the fire, nodded absently.

"Y