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 bleeding again. How--how did it happen?" Buck raised his head and regarded her with a slow, thoughtful stare. "I fell off the cliff back there," he replied at length. Her eyes widened. "You--fell off the cliff!" she gasped. "It's a wonder-- But is this the only place you're hurt?" His lips twisted in a grim smile. "Oh, no! I've got a sprained ankle and what feels like a broken rib, though it may be only bruises. But as you're thinking, I'm darned lucky to get off alive. I must have struck a ledge or something part way down, but how I managed from there I haven't the least idea." Hands clenched together in her lap, she stared at him in dismay. "I thought perhaps you might be strong enough in a little while to ride back with me to the ranch. I--I could help you mount, and we could go very slowly. But of course that's impossible. I'd better start at once and bring back some of the men." She made a move to rise, but he stopped her with a quick, imperative gesture. "No, you mustn't," he said firmly. "That won't do at all. I can't go to the ranch." He paused, his forehead wrinkled thoughtfully. "You may not have guessed it, but Lynch and I don't pull together at all," he finished, with a whimsical intonation.