e added.

Her manner was cavalier, her tone almost savage. Without another word
she turned and left them.

Dingwell watched her slim form disappear into the night.

"Did you ever see such a little thoroughbred?" he asked admiringly. "I
take off my hat to her. She's the gamest kid I ever met--and pretty as
they grow. Just think of her pulling off this getaway to-night. It
was a man-size job, and that little girl never turned a hair from start
to finish. And loyal! By Gad! Hal Rutherford hasn't earned fidelity
like that, even if he has been father and mother to her since she was a
year old. He'd ought to send her away from that hell-hole and give her
a chance."

"What will they do to her when she gets back?"

Dave chuckled. "They can't do a thing. That's the beauty of it.
There'll be a lot of tall cussing in Huerfano for a while, but after
Hal has onloaded what's on his chest he'll stand between her and the
rest."

"Sure of that?"

"It's a cinch." The cattleman laughed softly. "But ain't she the
little spitfire? I reckon she sure hates you thorough."

Roy did not answer. He was sliding from the back of his horse in a
faint.

When Beaudry opened his eyes again, Dingwell was pouring water into his
mouth from a canteen that had been hanging to the pommel of Miss
Rutherford's saddle.

"Was I unconscious?" asked the young man in disgust.

"That's whatever. Just you lie there, son, whilst I fix these bandages
up for you again."

The cattleman moistened the hot cloths with cold water and rearranged
them.

"We ought to be hurrying on," Roy suggested, glancing anxiously down
the steep ascent up which they had ridden.

"No rush a-tall," Dave assured him cheerfully. "We got all the time
there is. Best thing to do is to loaf along and take it easy."

"But they'll be on our trail as soon as they know we've gone. They'll
force Miss Rutherford to tell which way we came."

Dingwell grinned. "Son, did you ever look into that girl's eyes? They
look right at you, straight and unafraid. The Huerfano Park outfit
will have a real merry time getting her to tell anything she doesn't
want to. When she gets her neck bowed, I'll bet she's some sot. Might
as well argue with a government mule. She'd make a right interesting
wife for some man, but he'd have to be a humdinger to hold his end
up--six foot of man, lots of patience, and sense enough to know he'd
married a woman out of 'steen thousand."

You