ather huskily, "I'm askin' your pardon. I got sort
of panicky for a minute, that's all. But what are we goin' to do with
him? If he don't get help he'll be a dead man quick. An' you can't go
to Elkhead for the doctor. They'd doctor Dan with six-guns, that's
what they'd do."

"What could of made him do it?" said Mrs. Daniels, wiping a sudden
burst of tears from her eyes.

"Oh, God," said Buck. "How'd I know why he done it? How'd I know why
he turned me loose when he should of took me to Elkhead to be lynched
by the mob there? The girl's the only thing to help him outside of a
doctor. I'm goin' to get the girl."

"Where?"

"I dunno. Maybe I'll try the old Salton place."

"And take her away from Jim Silent?" broke in his father. "You might
jest as well go an' shoot yourse'f before startin'. That'll save your
hoss the long ride, an' it'll bring you to jest the same end."

"Listen!" said Buck, "they's the wolf mournin'!"

"Buck, you're loco!"

"Hush, pa!" whispered Mrs. Daniels.

She caught the hand of her brawny son.

"Buck, I'm no end proud of you, lad. If you die, it's a good death!
Tell me, Buck dear, have you got a plan?"

He ground his big hand across his forehead, scowling.

"I dunno," he said, drawing a long breath. "I jest know that I got to
get the girl. Words don't say what I mean. All I know is that I've got
to go up there an' get that girl, and bring her back so's she can save
Dan, not from the people that's huntin' him, but from himself."

"There ain't no way of changin' you?" said his father.

"Pa," said Mrs. Daniels, "sometimes you're a plumb fool!"

Buck was already in the saddle. He waved farewell, but after he set
his face towards the far-away hills he never turned his head. Behind
him lay the untamed three. Before him, somewhere among those naked,
sunburned hills, was the woman whose love could reclaim the wild.

A dimness came before his eyes. He attempted to curse at this
weakness, but in place of the blasphemy something swelled in his
throat, and a still, small music filled his heart. And when at last
he was able to speak his lips framed a vow like that of the old
crusaders.

CHAPTER XXIX

"WEREWOLF"

Buck's cattle pony broke from the lope into a steady dog-trot. Now and
then Buck's horse tossed his head high and jerked his ears quickly
back and forth as if he were trying to shake off a fly. As a matter of
fact he was bothered by his master's whistling. The only sound w