e, and towels. She cleansed Sheila's face and
hands, and deftly dressed the cut in her forehead.

"You make me feel like a baby," said Sheila. "I never fainted before in
my life. I didn't think I could faint. I'm all right now. May I sit up,
please?"

"You may lie up, if you like," Casey replied. "Let me put some pillows
under you. You've had a bad shake-up, old girl."

"Beaver Boy fell," she explained, "and threw me. I must have struck my
head. I don't know how I caught him again. I don't remember very
clearly. I had to hang on to the horn sometimes--dizzy, you know. I
never had to pull leather before. He was afraid of the lightning, and I
wasn't strong enough to handle him afterward. The fall took it out of
me. I just had to let him go. He knew it, and acted mean. I'll show him
whose horse he is next time."

"You rode on your nerve," said Casey. "Tell us all about it. Tell us
about your father and Sandy. You were going to say something when you
keeled over."

The girl's keen face clouded. "Oh, heavens! Casey, my head can't be
right yet. I'd clean forgotten my own people. There's been nothing but
trouble in bunches all day. The drivers ran away this morning, smashed
the rig, threw father out, and broke his leg. This afternoon this man
Glass, whom we all took for a harmless nuisance, arrested Sandy."

"What?" Casey exclaimed.

"Yes, he did. Glass is a railway detective. He worked quietly, nosing
around the ranches talking to everybody, while the other detective
attracted all the attention. Nobody suspected Glass. Who would? Anyway,
he and another man arrested Sandy for blowing up the dam."

Casey whistled softly, casting a side glance at Wade.

"Where's Sandy now? Where did they take him?"

Sheila laughed, but there was little mirth in it.

"They didn't take him anywhere, but I don't know where he is. I saw him
with the two men down by the stable. I thought they were talking about
land. Half an hour afterward he came to the house with his parfleches,
and asked me to put him up a couple of weeks' grubstake. He had the men
locked up in the harness room, but he didn't tell me how he had done
it. He took his pack horse and his blankets and hunting outfit, and
pulled out. I didn't know what to do. I didn't tell the folks. The
ranch hands know, but they won't let the men out. And then it must have
been after ten o'clock when one of our men told me of the shooting. He
had heard it from somebody on the road. He sai