showed through the trees. Next, horse and rider rounded
a curve at hand. Fong Wu leaned far forward.

And then, just as the mustang gained the strip of road before the
square-fronted house, it gave a sudden, unlooked-for, outward leap,
reared with a wild snort, and, whirling, dashed past the
porch--riderless.

With an exclamation, Fong Wu flung his banjo aside and ran to the road.
There under a manzanita bush, huddled and still, lay a figure. He caught
it up, bore it to the porch, and put it gently down.

A brief examination, made with the deftness practise gives, showed him
that no bones were broken. Squatting beside the unconscious woman, he
next played slowly with his long-nailed fingers upon her pulse. Its beat
reassured him. He lighted a lamp and held it above her. The scarlet of
her cheeks was returning.

The sight of her, who was so strong and active, stretched weak and
fainting, compelled Fong Wu into spoken comment. "The petal of a plum
blossom," he said compassionately, in his own tongue.

She stirred a little. He moved back. As, reviving, she opened her eyes,
they fell upon him. But he was half turned away, his face as blank and
lifeless as a mask.

She gave a startled cry and sat up. "Me hurtee?" she asked him, adopting
pidgin-English "Me fallee off?"

Fong Wu rose. "You were thrown," he answered gravely.

She colored in confusion. "Pardon me," she said, "for speaking to you as
if you were a coolie." Then, as she got feebly to her feet--"I believe
my right arm is broken."

"I have some knowledge of healing," he declared; "let me look at it."
Before she could answer, he had ripped the sleeve away. "It is only a
sprain," he said. "Wait." He went inside for an amber liquid and
bandages. When he had laved the injured muscles, he bound them round.

"How did it happen?" she asked, as he worked. He was so courteous and
professional that her alarm was gone.

"Your horse was frightened by a rattler in the road. I heard it whir."

She shuddered. "I ought to be thankful that I didn't come my cropper on
it," she said, laughing nervously.

He went inside again, this time to prepare a cupful of herbs. When he
offered her the draught, she screwed up her face over its nauseating
fumes.

"If that acts as strongly as it tastes," she said, after she had drunk
it, "I'll be well soon."

"It is to keep away inflammation."

"Oh! Can I go now?"

"Yes. But tomorrow return, and I will look at the arm." He took