“Miss Virginia! Miss Margaret! What does this mean?” he exclaimed as he joined the girls. “Why are you out at this hour and on a night so cold and blustery? Were you frightened? Has anything happened at the house?” “No, Tom. That is—yes! Well, I will have to begin at the beginning,” Virginia replied. Then she rapidly told of the coming of old Uncle Tex and of the posse that was camped in the dry creek bottom a mile below the ranch house. Then placing her hand on the lad’s arm, she pleaded, “Tom, we girls are well protected now that Uncle Tex has come and I beg of you ride to the north where you will be much safer than you are here.” There was no reply and Virginia wondered if the lad would refuse her request. Just then the moon appeared above Inspiration Peak, and the girls saw that in the lad’s face there was an expression of wistfulness, almost of sorrow. Impulsively he held out his hand. “Miss Virginia,” he said, “thank you for your interest in me. I don’t want to go. I am so happy here. It is the first bit of home life I have had in many a day. You girls have been so kind. If I had an own sister she could not be kinder. But there is no alternative, I suppose. You know this country better than I do, how shall I go?” “I have thought it all out,” Virginia replied. “I lay awake for hours planning what would be best for you to do, if you had to leave suddenly, and now that Uncle Tex has come, he has given me another idea. First of all I want you to ride to the north, following a trail which I will indicate, until you come to a group of white-washed buildings. That is the Wilson Sheep Ranch. Tell Mr. Wilson that you have been sent from the V. M. Ranch, as an old cattleman called Uncle Tex said that he was in need of help. There you will be absolutely safe, I am sure. Tom, will you go?” “Yes, Virginia,” was the reluctant reply and the girl noted, with a feeling of real pleasure, that for the first time the lad had said just “Virginia.” “Prepare what you need,” she added hastily, “and I will make you a map of the trails you are to follow.” Then to the girl who was shivering at her side: “Come Megsy, we will return to the ranch house.” Fifteen minutes later, Virginia arose from the old desk at which she had been busily engaged. Margaret, who had been watching at the door, beckoned to her friend. “Tom is coming,” she whispered. Hurrying to the veranda, Virginia handed an envelope to the lad. “Take the trail due west until you reach the sand hills, then turn to the north,” she said. “You ought to reach the Papago village early in the morning and my good friend Winona will gladly give you some breakfast. Good-bye, Tom. We will see you again.” It was this hope that the lad bore in his heart as he rode away into the darkness and increasing wind storm, and it was this hope which was to help him bear the hardships and loneliness of many a day to follow. CHAPTER XXX A BATTLE OF WITS