Carmichael suddenly broke his silence. “Bo, did you see the other men?” “Yes. I was coming to that,” she replied. “I caught a glimpse of them back in the cedars. The three were together, or, at least, three horsemen were there. They had halted behind some trees. Then on the way home I began to think. Even in my fury I had received impressions. Riggs was SURPRISED when I got up. I'll bet he had not expected me to be who I was. He thought I was NELL!... I look bigger in this buckskin outfit. My hair was up till I lost my hat, and that was when I had the tumble. He took me for Nell. Another thing, I remember--he made some sign--some motion while I was calling him names, and I believe that was to keep those other men back.... I believe Riggs had a plan with those other men to waylay Nell and make off with her. I absolutely know it.” “Bo, you're so--so--you jump at wild ideas so,” protested Helen, trying to believe in her own assurance. But inwardly she was trembling. “Miss Helen, that ain't a wild idee,” said Roy, seriously. “I reckon your sister is pretty close on the trail. Las Vegas, don't you savvy it thet way?” Carmichael's answer was to stalk out of the room. “Call him back!” cried Helen, apprehensively. “Hold on, boy!” called Roy, sharply. Helen reached the door simultaneously with Roy. The cowboy picked up his sombrero, jammed it on his head, gave his belt a vicious hitch that made the gun-sheath jump, and then in one giant step he was astride Ranger. “Carmichael! Stay!” cried Helen. The cowboy spurred the black, and the stones rang under iron-shod hoofs. “Bo! Call him back! Please call him back!” importuned Helen, in distress. “I won't,” declared Bo Rayner. Her face shone whiter now and her eyes were like fiery flint. That was her answer to a loving, gentle-hearted sister; that was her answer to the call of the West. “No use,” said Roy, quietly. “An' I reckon I'd better trail him up.” He, too, strode out and, mounting his horse, galloped swiftly away. It turned out that Bo, was more bruised and scraped and shaken than she had imagined. One knee was rather badly cut, which injury alone would have kept her from riding again very soon. Helen, who was somewhat skilled at bandaging wounds, worried a great deal over these sundry blotches on Bo's fair skin, and it took considerable time to wash and dress them. Long after this was done, and during the early supper, and afterward, Bo's excitement remained unabated. The whiteness stayed on her face and the blaze in her eyes. Helen ordered and begged her to go to bed, for the fact was Bo could not stand up and her hands shook. “Go to bed? Not much,” she said. “I want to know what he does to Riggs.”