be the explanation. Why change it?

Zen turned it over in her mind. Why make any explanations? It would be
a good thing to forget. She could not have done otherwise under the
circumstances; no jury would expect her to do otherwise. But why trouble
a jury about it?

"He got what was coming to him," she said to herself presently. She
admitted no regret. On the contrary, her inborn self-confidence, her
assurance that she could take care of herself under any circumstances,
seemed to be strengthened by the experience.

She got up, drew her hair into some kind of shape, and scrambled a
little way up the steep bank. Clouds of smoke were rolling up the
valley. She did not grasp the significance of the fact at the first
glance, but in a moment it impacted home to her. The wind had changed!
Her help now would be needed, not by Mrs. Landson, but probably at their
own camp. She sprang on her horse, re-crossed the stream, and set out on
a gallop for the camp. On the way she had to ride through one thin line
of fire, which she accomplished successfully. Through the smoke she
could dimly see Transley's gang fighting the back-fires. She knew that
was in good hands, and hastened on to the camp. Zen had had prairie
experience enough to know that in hours like this there is almost sure
to be something or somebody, in vital need, overlooked.

She galloped into the camp and found only Tompkins there. He had already
run a little back-fire to protect the tents and the chuck-wagon.

"How goes it, Tompkins?" she cried, bursting upon him like a courier
from battle.

"All set here, Ma'am," he answered. "All set an' safe. But they'll never
hold the main fire; it'll go up the valley hell-scootin',--beggin' your
pardon, Ma'am."

"Anyone live up the valley?"

"There is. There's the Lints--squatters about six miles up--it was
from them I got the cream an' fresh eggs you was good enough to notice,
Ma'am. An' there's no men folks about; jus' Mrs. Lint an' a young herd
of little Lints; least, that's all was there las' night."

"I must go up," said Zen, with instant decision. "I can get there before
the fire, and as the Lints are evidently farmers there will be some
plowed land, or at least a plow with which to run a furrow so that we
can start a back-fire. Direct me."

Tompkins directed her as to the way, and, leaving a word of explanation
to be passed on to her father, she was off. A half hour's hard riding
brought her to Lint's, but she fo