he grass roots showed white where the soil had washed
away. They hoped the rain had not reached to the mountains and
spoiled the picnic grounds, and wondered what time the girls would
have dinner ready.

So they rode down the steep trail into Sheep Coulee, galloped a
quarter mile and stopped, amazed, at the ford. The creek was running
bank full; more, it was churning along like a mill-race, yellow with
the clay it carried and necked with great patches of dirty foam.

"I guess here's where we don't cross," said Weary, whistling mild
dismay.

"Now, wouldn't that jostle yuh?" asked Pink, of no one in particular.

"By golly, the lemonade 'll be cold, and so'll the san'wiches, before
we git there," put in Slim, with one of his sporadic efforts to be
funny. "We got t' go back."

"Back nothing," chorused five outraged voices. "We'll hunt some
other crossing."

"Down the creek a piece--yuh mind where that old sandbar runs half
across? We'll try that." Weary's tone was hopeful, and they turned
and followed him.

Half a mile along the raging little creek they galloped, with no
place where they dared to cross. Then, loping around a
willow-fringed bend, Weary and Pink, who were ahead, drew their
horses back upon their haunches. They had all but run over a huddle
of humanity lying in the fringe of weeds and tall grasses that grew
next the willows.

"What in thunder--" began Cal, pulling up. They slid off their
horses and bent curiously over the figure. Weary turned it
investigatively by a shoulder. The figure stirred, and groaned.
"It's somebody hurt; take a hand here, and help carry him out where
the sun shines. He's wet to the skin," commanded Weary sharply.

When they lifted him he opened his eyes and looked at them; while
they carried him tenderly out from the wet tangle and into the warmth
of the sun, he set his teeth against the groans that would come.
They stood around him uneasily and looked down at him. He was young,
like themselves, and he was a stranger; also, he was dressed like a
cowboy, in chaps, high-heeled boots and silver-mounted spurs. The
chaps were sodden and heavy with water, as was the rest of his
clothing.

"He must uh laid out in all that storm, last night," observed Cal, in
a subdued voice. "He--"

"Somebody better ride back and have the bed wagon brought up, so we
can haul him to a doctor," suggested Pink. "He's hurt."

The stranger's eyes swept the faces of the Happy Family