"Wounded murderers and burners of homes! Well, I'm not going to Alamito Ranch with you, sir, unless you can contrive an ambulance of some sort and take this gentleman too." The officer brightened. He believed it could be arranged. Inside of an hour he had Tom Lassiter around with a team and spring wagon, in which the homesteaders laid Macdonald tenderly upon a bed of hay. Banjo waited until they were ready to begin their slow march to the ranch, when he led his little horse forward. "I'll go on to the agency after the doctor and send him over to Alamito as quick as he can go," he said. "And I'll see if Mother Mathews can go over, too. She's worth four doctors when it comes to keep the pizen from spreadin' in a wound." Frances gave him her benediction with her eyes, and farewell with a warm handclasp, and Banjo's beribboned horse frisked off on its long trip, quite refreshed from the labors of the past night. Frances was carrying Macdonald's cartridge belt and revolvers, the confiscation of which had been overlooked by Major King in the excitement of the shooting. The young lieutenant hadn't the heart to take the weapons from her. Orders had been carried out; Macdonald had been disarmed. He let it go at that. Frances rode in the wagon with Macdonald, a canteen of water slung over her shoulders. Now and then she moistened his lips with a little of it, and bathed his eyes, closed in pathetic weariness. He was unconscious still from the blow of Saul Chadron's big bullet. As she ministered to him she felt that he would open his eyes on this world's pains and cruel injustices nevermore. And why had Major King ordered her, virtually under arrest, to Alamito Ranch, instead of sending her in disgrace to the post? Was it because he feared that she would communicate with her father from the post, and discover to him the treacherous compact between Chadron and King, or merely to take a mean revenge upon her by humiliating her in Nola Chadron's eyes? He had taken the newspaper correspondent with him, and certainly would see that no more of the truth was sent out by him from that flame-swept country for several days. With her at the ranch, far from telegraphic communication with the world, nothing could go out from her that would enlighten the department on the deception that the cattlemen had practiced to draw the government into the conflict on their side. In the meantime, the Drovers' Association would be at work, spreading money with free hand, corrupting evidence with the old dyes of falsehood.