before I was born, though.
You see, I'm a real Montana product."

"And a mighty fine one!" he murmured. Then he said aloud: "Well, as long
as you've got folks in the big city, it's all right. But it's the
loneliest place on God's earth if one has no friends and no confidants. I
know that to be true from what boys have told me who have come there from
out of town."

"Oh, I've got folks," said Helen, lightly. "How's the foot now?"

"Bad," he admitted. "It hangs loose, you see----"

"Hold on!" commanded Helen, dismounting. "We've a long way to travel yet.
That foot must be strapped so that it will ride easier. Wait!"

She handed him her rein to hold and went around to the other side of the
Rose pony. She removed her belt, unhooked the empty holster that hung from
it, and slipped the holster into her pocket. Few of the riders carried a
gun on Sunset Ranch unless the coyotes proved troublesome.

With her belt Helen strapped the dangling leg to the saddle girth. The
useless stirrup, that flopped and struck the lame foot, she tucked up out
of the way.

With tender fingers she touched the wounded foot. She could feel the fever
through the boot.

"But you'd better keep your boot on till we get home, Dud Stone," advised
Helen. "It will sort of hold it together and perhaps keep the pain from
becoming greater than you can bear. But I guess it hurts mighty bad."

"It sure does, Miss Morrell," he returned, grimly. "Is--is the ranch
far?"

"Some distance. And we've got to walk. But bear up if you can----"

She saw him waver in the saddle. If he fell, she could not be sure just
how Rose, the spirited pony, would act.

"Say!" she said, coming around and walking by his side, leading the other
mount by the bridle. "You lean on me. Don't want you falling out of the
saddle. Too hard work to get you back again."

"I guess you think I _am_ a tenderfoot!" muttered young Stone.

He never knew how they reached Sunset Ranch. The fall, the terrible wrench
of his foot, and the endurance of the pain was finally too much for him.
In a half-fainting condition he sank part of his weight on the girl's
shoulder, and she sturdily trudged along the rough trail, bearing him up
until she thought her own limbs would give way.

At last she even had to let the buckskin run at large, he made her so much
trouble. But the Rose pony was "a dear!"

Somewhere about ten o'clock the dogs began to bark. She saw the flash of
lanterns and heard the patt