"Can you?" she asked in turn, after she had swung to the saddle. He had to try it three times before he succeeded in getting into the seat. So weak was he that as the horse moved he had to cling with both hands to the pommel of the saddle to steady himself. Ruth rode close beside him, all solicitude and anxiety. "You ought not to be riding. I know your wounds hurt you cruelly," she urged in a grave and troubled voice. "I reckon I can stand the grief. When I've had a bath and a good sleep I'll be good as new." She asked timidly the question that filled her mind. "Did you--What about him?" "Did I kill him? Is that what you mean?" "Yes," she murmured. "No, I reckon not. He was lying senseless when I left, but I expect he'll come to." "Oh, I hope so ... I do hope so." He looked at her, asking no questions. Some men would have broken into denunciation of the scoundrel, would have defended the course they had followed. This man did neither the one nor the other. She might think what she pleased. He had fought from an inner compulsion, not to win her applause. No matter how she saw it he could offer no explanations or apologies. "I hope so because--because of you," she continued. "Now I know him for what he is. I'm through with him for always." Then, in a sudden burst of frankness: "I never did trust him, really." "You've had good luck. Some women find out things too late," he commented simply. After that they rode in silence, except at long intervals when she asked him if he was in pain or too tired to travel. The lightening of the sky for the coming dawn found them still in the saddle with the jagged mountain line rising vaguely before them in the darkness like a long shadow. Presently they could make out the gash in the range that was Sieber's Pass. "Some of the boys will be waiting there for us, I reckon," Steve said. "They'll be glad to see you safe." "If I'm safe, they'll know who brought it about." Her voice trembled as she hurried on: "I can't thank you. All I can say is that I understand from what you saved me." He looked away at the distant hills. "That's all right. I had the good luck to be in the right place. Any of the boys would have been glad of the chance." After a time they saw smoke rising from a hollow in the hills. They were climbing steadily now by way of a gulch trail. This opened into a draw. A little back from the stream a man was bending over a camp-fire. He turned his head to call to a second man and caught sight of them. It was Orman. He let out a whoop of gladness when he recognized Ruth. Others came running from a little clump of timber. Phil lifted his sister from the saddle and kissed her. He said nothing, since he could not speak without breaking down. Jackson looked at Steve in amazement. "You been wrastling with a circular saw?" he asked. It hurt Yeager's broken face to smile, but he attempted it. "Had a little difference of opinion with Chad. We kind o' talked things over."