eck still bled. Sundown drew his knife
and cut the sleeve from his shirt. He ripped it open and bound the
dog's neck. Realizing that Chance was not dead, he became valiant.
"We sure put up the great scrap, didn't we, pal? We licked him! But
if he'd 'a' licked you . . ." And Sundown gazed at the still form of
the wolf and shuddered, not knowing that the wolf would have fled at
sight of him had he been able to get away from Chance.

Two hours later, Eleanor Loring, riding along the canon stream, met a
lean giant, one sleeve of his shirt gone, his hat missing, and his
hands splotched with blood. His eyes were wild, his face white and
set. He carried a great, shaggy dog in his arms.

"Are you hurt?" she asked, swinging from her pony and coming to him.

"Me? No, lady. But me pal here is hurt bad. Jest breathin'. Killed
a wolf back there. Mebby I can save him."

"Why, it's Chance--of the Concho!"

"Yes, lady. What is left of him."

"Do you work for the Concho? Won't you take my horse?"

"I'm assistant cook at the camp. No, thanks, lady. Ridin' might
joggle him and start him to bleedin'. I can carry him so he'll be
easier-like."

"But how did it happen?"

"I dunno. Chance chased the wolf and they went to it where I was
explorin' one of them caves. I guess I better be goin'."

The girl reined her horse around and rode down the valley trail,
pausing occasionally to watch the tall figure climbing the canon with
that shapeless burden in his arms. "I wonder if any other man on the
Concho would have done that?" she asked herself. And Sundown, despite
his more or less terrifying appearance, won her estimation for kindness
at once.

Slowly he climbed the canon trail, resting at each level. The dog hung
a limp, dead weight in his arms. Midway up the trail Sundown rested
again, and gazed down into the valley. He imagined he could discern
the place of the fight. "That there wolf," he soliloquized, "he was
some fighter, too. Mebby he didn't like to get licked any more than
Chance, here. Wonder what they was fightin' about? I dunno. But, Gee
Gosh, she was one dandy scrap!"

At the top of the canon wall he again rested. He expected to be
discharged for being late, but solaced himself with the thought that if
he could save Chance, it was worth the risk.

The riders had returned to the chuck-wagon when Sundown arrived lugging
the inert body of the wolf-dog. They gathered around and asked brief