ack to the machine and crouched down
until he could get his hands under the steel frame. Then he lifted.
The car was in a somewhat poised position, and he was able to swing it
up far enough to release the injured leg.

"Very good, my boy," said the man. "That was a wonderful lift. The
leg is broken--compound. Can you get some way of moving me to shelter?
I will pay you well."

The last words were unfortunate. Hospitality in the ranching country
is not bought and sold.

"You can't pay me nothin'," he said rudely. "But I can bring a light
wagon, if you can ride in that, and put you up at the ranch. The old
man's soused," he added, as an afterthought, "but it's better than
sleepin' out. I won't be long."

He was back at his horse, and in a moment they heard the clatter of
hoofs galloping down the hillside.

The girl sat on the ground and rested her father's head in her lap.
Tears made her bright eyes brighter still.

"Don't cry, Reenie," he said, gently. "We are very lucky to be so
close to help. Of course, I'll be laid up for awhile, but it will give
you a chance to see ranch life as it really is"--He winced with pain,
but continued, "I fancy we shall find it plain and unveneered. What a
horseman! If I could run an automobile like he does a horse we should
not be here. Did you notice that I didn't release the clutch? Just
ambled into this predicament--embraced it, I might say."

"He's strong," she said. "But he's rude."

"The best fields for muscle are often poor schools for manners," he
answered. "But manners are no substitute for hospitality, and he seems
to have that, all right. It is something that belongs to the open
country, the big, open country. In cities they _entertain_, but in the
ranching country they, why, there isn't any word for it, but you will
see for yourself."

He was soon back with a wagon and a stretcher. He avoided the eyes of
his guests, but quickly and gently enough he placed the injured man on
the stretcher. "I guess you'll have to take the feet," he said. The
words were for the girl, although he did not look at her. "I could
hustle him myself, but it might hurt 'im."

But the injured man interrupted. "I beg your pardon," he said, "that I
did not introduce my daughter. I am Doctor Hardy--this is my daughter,
Irene, Mr.----?"

"They don't call me mister," said the boy. "Misters is scarce in these
woods. My name is Elden--Dave Elden."

He was for dropping it