"Why, you can't do this!" she cried, struggling to free herself. Cartwell merely tightened his hold and swung out at a pace that was half run, half walk. "Close your eyes so the sun won't hurt them," he said peremptorily. Dizzily and confusedly, Rhoda dropped her head back on the broad shoulder and closed her eyes, with a feeling of security that later on was to appall her. Long after she was to recall the confidence of this moment with unbelief and horror. Nor did she dream how many weary days and hours she one day was to pass with this same brazen sky over her, this same broad shoulder under her head. Cartwell looked down at the delicate face lying against his breast, at the soft yellow hair massed against his sleeve. Into his black eyes came a look that was passionately tender, and the strong brown hand that supported Rhoda's shoulders trembled. In an incredibly short time he was entering the peach orchard that surrounded the ranch-house. A young man in white flannels jumped from a hammock in which he had been dozing. "For heaven's sake!" he exclaimed. "What does this mean?" Rhoda was too ill to reply. Cartwell did not slack his giant stride toward the house. "It means," he answered grimly, "that you folks must be crazy to let Miss Tuttle take a walk in clothes like this! She's got a scorpion sting in her foot." The man in flannels turned pale. He hurried along beside Cartwell, then broke into a run. "I'll telephone to Gold Rock for the doctor and tell Mrs. Newman." He started on ahead. "Never mind the doctor!" called Cartwell. "I've attended to the sting. Tell Mrs. Jack to have hot water ready." As Cartwell sprang up the porch steps, Mrs. Newman ran out to meet him. She was a pretty, rosy girl, with brown eyes and curly brown hair. "Rhoda! Kut-le!" she cried. "Why didn't I warn her! Put her on the couch here in the hall, Kut-le. John, tell Li Chung to bring the hot-water bottles. Here, Rhoda dear, drink this!" For half an hour the three, with Li Chung hovering in the background, worked over the girl. Then as they saw her stupor change to a natural sleep, Katherine gave a sigh that was almost a sob. "She's all right!" she said. "O Kut-le, if you hadn't come at that moment!" Cartwell shook his head. "It might have gone hard with her, she's so delicate. Gee, I'm glad I ran out of tobacco this morning and thought a two-mile tramp across the desert for it worth while!" The three were on the porch now. The young man in flannels, who had said little but had obeyed orders explicitly eyed Cartwell curiously. "You're Newman's engineer, aren't you?" he asked. "My name's DeWitt. You've put us all under great obligations, this morning." Cartwell took the extended hand.