on came to a sudden stand, the gallant steed rolled over and
over, his rider underneath him.

When Lieutenant Drummond regained his senses he found himself unable
to believe them. Conscious at first only of being terribly bruised and
shaken, he realized that he was being borne along in some wheeled
vehicle, moving with slow and decorous pace over a soft yet unbeaten
and irregular trail. Conscious of fierce white light and heat about
him on every side, he was aware of a moist, cool, dark bandage over
his eyes that prevented him from seeing. Striving to raise a hand to
sweep the blinding cloth away, he met rebellion. A sudden spasm of
pain that made him wince, the quick contraction of his features, the
low moan of distress, were answered instantly by a most surprising
wail in a sweet girlish voice.

"Oh, Fanny, see how he suffers! Can't something be done?"

And then--could he be mistaken?--soft, slender fingers were caressing
the close-cropped hair about his temples. A glow of delight and
rejoicing thrilled through his frame as he realized that the main
object of the fierce and determined pursuit was accomplished, that the
precious freight was rescued from the robber band, and that
somehow--somehow he himself was now a prisoner.

Striving to move his head, he found it softly, warmly pillowed; but as
he attempted to turn, it was held in place by two little hands, one on
each side. Then as he found his voice and faintly protested that he
was all right and wanted to look about him, another hand quickly
removed the bandage, and Fanny Harvey's lovely face, pale and framed
with much dishevelled hair, was bending anxiously over him; but a
smile of hope, even of joy, was parting the soft lips as she saw the
light of returning reason in his eyes. At this same instant, too, the
hands that supported his face were suddenly drawn away, and his pillow
became unstable. One quick glance told him the situation. The seats of
the Concord had been lifted out, blankets had been spread within; he
was lying at full length, his aching head supported in Ruth Harvey's
lap. Fanny, her elder sister, was seated facing him, but at his side.
No wonder Jim Drummond could not quite believe his senses.

It was Fanny who first recovered her self-poise. Throwing back the
hanging curtain at the side, she called aloud,--

"Mr. Wing, come to us! He's conscious."

And the next instant the slow motion of the wagon ceased, the door was
wrenched open, and