tell me what you wanted?"

"I didn't have a chance. Besides I could not waste time in talking and
explaining to everybody along the road."

"Sure you couldn't, but the girl'll forgive you when she finds out
what happened."

"No, she won't, because she'll never find out."

"Eh?"

"I don't know where she is."

"Riding all that way just to see a girl--"

"It's a long story, partner, and this leg is beginning to act up. Tell
you the best thing would be for you to jump on your mare and jog into
Stillwater for a buckboard and then come back and get me. What d'you
say?"

Twenty minutes after Ronicky Doone had swung into the saddle and raced
down the road, the buckboard arrived and the wounded man was helped on
to a pile of blankets in the body of the wagon.

The shooting, of course, was explained by the inevitable gun accident.
Ronicky Doone happened to be passing along that way and saw Bill Gregg
looking over his revolver as he rode along. At that moment the gun
exploded and--