mainder of
the pathway. And finally there came an answering shout. Then a little
glimmer of light flashed up--again and yet again.

"Matches!" grumbled Helen. "Can't he find anything dry to burn down there
and so make a steady light?"

She shouted again.

"This way, Miss!" she heard the stranger cry.

The ponies picked their way carefully over the loose shale that had fallen
to the foot of the bluff. There were trees, too, to make the way darker.

"Hi!" cried Helen. "Why didn't you light a fire?"

"Why, to tell you the truth, I had some difficulty in getting down here,
and I--I had to rest."

The words were followed by a groan that the young man evidently could not
suppress.

"Why, you're more badly hurt than you said!" cried the girl. "I'd better
get help; hadn't I?"

"A doctor is out of the question, I guess. I believe that foot's broken."

"Huh! You're from the East!" she said, suddenly.

"How so?"

"You say 'guess' in that funny way. And that explains it."

"Explains what?"

"Your riding so recklessly."

"My goodness!" exclaimed the other, with a short laugh. "I thought the
whole West was noted for reckless riding."

"Oh, no. It only _looks_ reckless," she returned, quietly. "Our boys
wouldn't ride a pony close to the edge of a steep descent like that up
yonder."

"All right. I'm in the wrong," admitted the stranger. "But you needn't rub
it in."

"I didn't mean to," said Helen, quickly. "I have a bad habit of talking
out loud."

He laughed at that. "You're frank, you mean? I like that. Be frank enough
to tell me how I am to get back to Badger's--even on ponyback--to-night?"

"Impossible," declared Helen.

"Then, perhaps I _had_ better make an effort to make camp."

"Why, no! It's only a few miles to the ranch-house. I'll hoist you up on
your pony. The trail's easy."

"Whose ranch is it?" he asked, with another suppressed groan.

"Mine--Sunset Ranch."

"Sunset Ranch! Why, I've heard of that. One of the last big ranches
remaining in Montana; Isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Almost as big as 101?"

"That's right," said Helen, briefly.

"But I didn't know a girl owned it," said the other, curiously.

"She didn't--until lately. My father, Prince Morrell, has just died."

"Oh!" exclaimed the other, in a softened tone. "And you are Miss
Morrell?"

"I am. And who are you? Easterner, of course?"

"You guessed right--though, I suppose, you 'reckon' instead of 'guess.'
I'm from New York."

"