orror. His face stiffened and paled. "That was awful. To be locked in.
Not to be able to get fresh breath in your lungs. Not to be able to go
where you please, when you please. I can't tell you what it's like ... I
can't stand it! I can't stand a minute of it! I was in that pen six
hours. I felt I'd go loco if I was there all night. I guess I am a kind
of fool. I broke jail early in the morning and caught up the sheriff's
horse. They got a shot or two at me, hit my wrist, but I made my getaway.
This horse is not much on looks, but he sure can get over the sagebrush.
I was coming over to see you."

There was that in his voice when he said this that touched Sheila's
heart, profoundly. This restless, violent young adventurer, homeless,
foot-loose, without discipline or duty, had turned to her in his trouble
as instinctively as though she had been his mother. This, because she had
once served him. Something stirred in Sheila's heart.

"And then," Hilliard went on, "I was going to get down to Arizona. But
when I heard you were coming over into Hidden Creek, it seemed like
foolishness to cut myself off from the country by running away from
nothing. Of course there are ways to prove my identity with those
fellows. It only means putting up with a few days of pen." He gave a
sigh. "But you can understand, ma'am, that this isn't just the horse that
will give you quietest entrance into Rusty and that I'm not just one of
the First Citizens."

"But," said Sheila, "if they see you riding in with me, they certainly
won't shoot."

He laughed admiringly. "You're game!" he said. "But, Miss Arundel,
they're not likely to do any more shooting. It's not a man riding into
Rusty that they're after. It's a man riding out of Rusty. They'll know
I'm coming to give myself up."

"I'll just stay here," said Sheila firmly.

"I can't let you."

"I'm too tired to walk. I'm too sleepy. It'll be all right."

"Then I'll walk." He pulled in his horse, but at the instant stiffened in
his saddle and wheeled about on the road. A rattle of galloping hoofs
struck the ground behind them; two riders wheeled and stopped. One drew
close and held out his hand.

"Say, stranger, shake," he said. "We've been kickin' up the dust to beg
your pardon. We got the real rustler this mornin' shortly after you left.
I'm plumb disgusted and disheartened with young Tommins for losin' his
head an' shootin' off his gun. He's a dern fool, that kid, a regular
tenderfoot.