and a half. My horse dropped dead--I'm near
dead myself. I tried to borrow another horse up at Clancey's, and at
Scotton's Drive, but they didn't know me, and they bounced me. So I
borrowed a horse off Weigall's paddock, to make for here--to you.
I didn't mean to keep that horse. Hell, I'm no horse-stealer! But I
couldn't explain to them, except that I had to git to Bindon to save a
man's life. If people laugh in your face, it's no use explainin'. I took
a roan from Weigall's, and they got after me. 'Bout six miles up they
shot at me an' hurt me."

She saw that one arm hung limp at his side and that his wrist was wound
with a red bandana.

She started forward. "Are you hurt bad? Can I bind it up or wash it for
you? I've got plenty of hot water here, and it's bad letting a wound get
stale."

He shook his head. "I washed the hole clean in the creek below. I
doubled on them. I had to go down past your place here, and then work
back to be rid of them. But there's no telling when they'll drop on to
the game, and come back for me. My only chance was to git to you. Even
if I had a horse, I couldn't make Bindon in time. It's two days round
the gorge by trail. A horse is no use now--I lost too much time since
last night. I can't git to Bindon to-morrow in time, if I ride the
trail."

"The river?" she asked abruptly.

"It's the only way. It cuts off fifty mile. That's why I come to you."

She frowned a little, her face became troubled, and her glance fell
on his arm nervously. "What've I got to do with it?" she asked almost
sharply.

"Even if this was all right,"--he touched the wounded arm--"I couldn't
take the rapids in a canoe. I don't know them, an' it would be sure
death. That's not the worst, for there's a man at Bindon would lose his
life--p'r'aps twenty men--I dunno; but one man sure. To-morrow, it's go
or stay with him. He was good--Lord, but he was good!--to my little
gal years back. She'd only been married to me a year when he saved her,
riskin' his own life. No one else had the pluck. My little gal, only
twenty she was, an' pretty as a picture, an' me fifty miles away when
the fire broke out in the hotel where she was. He'd have gone down to
hell for a friend, an' he saved my little gal. I had her for five years
after that. That's why I got to git to Bindon to-morrow. If I don't, I
don't want to see to-morrow. I got to go down the river to-night."

She knew what he was going to ask her. She knew he was thin