ets, a couple of light poles and a flask of brandy. He seemed
as fresh and unwinded as if he had gone no farther than the grove, and
he wore, more than ever, his air of cheerful assurance.

"The doctor will be there," he remarked, just as if it were the simplest
thing in the world. "We can carry him to Fred Thurman's. There I can get
horses and a wagon, and you will not have to carry so far. And when we
get to your ranch the doctor will be there, I think. He is starting now.
We will hurry. I will fix it so you need not carry much. It is just to
make it steady for me."

While he talked he was working on the stretcher. He had a rope, and he
was knotting it in a long loop to the poles. Lorraine wondered why,
until he had lifted her father and placed him on the stretcher and
placed the loop over his own head and under one arm, as a ploughman
holds the reins, so that his hands may be free.

"If you will carry the front," said Swan politely, "it will not be
heavy for you like this. But you will help me keep it steady."

Lorraine was past discussing anything. She obeyed him silently, lifting
the end of the stretcher and leading the way down to the canyon's
bottom, where Swan assured her they could walk quite easily and would
save many detours which the road above must take. At the bottom Swan
stopped her so that he might shorten the rope and take more of the
weight on his shoulders. She protested half-heartedly, but Swan only
laughed.

"I am strong like a mule," he said. "You should see me wrestle with
somebody. Clear over my head--I can carry a man in my hands. This is so
you can walk fast. Three miles straight down we come to Thurman's ranch,
where I get the horses. It's funny how hills make a road far around.
Just three miles--that's all. I have walked many times."

Lorraine did not answer him. She felt that he was talking merely to keep
her from worrying, and she was fairly sick with anxiety and did not hear
half of what he was saying. She was nervously careful about choosing her
steps so that she would not stumble and jolt her father. She did not
believe that he was wholly unconscious, for she had seen his eyelids
tighten and his lips twitch several times, when she was waiting for
Swan. He had seemed to be in pain and to be trying to hide the fact from
her. She felt that Swan knew it, else he would have talked of her dad,
would at least have tried to reassure her. But it is difficult to speak
of a person who hears w