ding for her
to bind up and coax back to life?

The men were on the very verge of the cut-bank, now, and it seemed
inevitable that both must go crashing into the creek. "Serve 'em right
if they would," muttered Patty, "I'd like to give 'em a push." With
the words on her lips, she saw a blur of motion, one of the forms
leaped lightly back, and the other poised for a second, arms waving
wildly in a vain effort to regain his balance, then fell suddenly
backward and toppled headlong into the creek. Patty could distinctly
hear the mighty splash with which he struck the water, as the other
advanced to the edge and peered downward. She knew that this other was
Vil Holland, and a moment later he turned away and catching up the
reins of the buckskin, swung into the saddle, splashed through the
ford, and disappeared into the scrub timber of the opposite side of
the valley.

Patty urged her horse forward, at the imminent risk of injury to her
pail of eggs. When she had almost reached the cabin, a grotesque,
dripping form crawled heavily from the creek bed, gave one hurried
glance in her direction, mounted his horse, and disappeared in a
thunder of galloping hoofs.

CHAPTER XII

BETHUNE TRIES AGAIN

For several days following the incident of the two struggling
horsemen, Patty rode, extending her quest farther and farther into the
hills, and thus widening the circle of her exploration. She had
overhauled her father's photographic outfit and found it contained
complete supplies for the development and printing of his own
pictures, and having brought several rolls of films from town, she
proceeded to amuse herself by photographing the more striking bits of
scenery she encountered upon her daily rides.

It was mid-summer, now, the sun shone hot and brassy from a cloudless
sky, and the buffalo grass was beginning to exchange its fresh
greenness for a shade of dirty tan. Only the delicious coolness of the
short nights made bearable the long, hot, monotonous days during which
the girl stuck doggedly to her purpose. Upon these rides she met no
one. It was as if human beings had entirely forsaken the world and
left it to the prairie dogs, the coyotes, and the lazily coiled
rattle-snakes that lay basking upon the rocks in the hot glare of the
sun. Even the occasional bunches of range cattle did not eye her with
their accustomed interest, but lay in straggling groups close beside
the cold waters of tiny streams.

And it was