“I don't know. There's no light. Whatever shall we do?” she moaned. “I'm a right smart of a nuisance, ain't I?” drawled the wounded man unexpectedly. She leaned forward quickly. “Where are you hit?” “In the shoulder, ma'am.” “Can you ride, Steve? Do you reckon you could make out the five miles?” Dick asked. Arlie answered for him. She had felt the inert weight of his heavy body and knew that he was beyond helping himself. “No. Is there no house near? There's Alec Howard's cabin.” “He's at the round-up, but I guess we had better take Steve there--if we could make out to get him that far.” The girl took command quietly. “Unsaddle Teddy.” She had unloosened his shirt and was tying her silk kerchief over the wound, from which blood was coming in little jets. “We can't carry him,” she decided. “It's too far. We'll have to lift him to the back of the horse, and let him lie there. Steady, Dick. That's right. You must hold him on, while I lead the horse.” Heavy as he was, they somehow hoisted him, and started. He had fainted again, and hung limply, with his face buried in the mane of the pony. It seemed an age before the cabin loomed, shadow-like, out of the darkness. They found the door unlocked, as usual, and carried him in to the bed. “Give me your knife, Dick,” Arlie ordered quietly. “And I want water. If that's a towel over there, bring it.” “Just a moment. I'll strike a light, and we'll see where we're at.” “No. We'll have to work in the dark. A light might bring them down on us.” She had been cutting the band of the shirt, and now ripped it so as to expose the wounded shoulder. Dick took a bucket to the creek, and presently returned with it. In his right hand he carried his revolver. When he reached the cabin he gave an audible sigh of relief and quickly locked the door. “Of course you'll have to go for help, Dick. Bring old Doc Lee.” “Why, Arlie, I can't leave you here alone. What are you talking about?” “You'll have to. It's the only thing to do. You'll have to give me your revolver. And, oh, Dick, don't lose a moment on the way.” He was plainly troubled. “I just can't leave you here alone, girl. What would your father say if anything happened? I don't reckon anything will, but we can't tell. No, I'll stay here, too. Steve must take his chance.” “You'll not stay.” She flamed round upon him, with the fierce passion of a tigress fighting for her young. “You'll go this minute--this very minute!” “But don't you see I oughtn't to leave you? Anybody would tell you that,” he pleaded. “And you call yourself his friend,” she cried, in a low, bitter voice. “I call myself yours, too,” he made answer doggedly. “Then go. Go this instant. You'll go, anyway; but if you're my friend, you'll go gladly, and bring help to save us both.” “I wisht I knew what to do,” he groaned.