"You're ce'tainly aching for a chance to be a Good Samaritan, Miss
Sanderson."

With this he left her. But he had not gone a hundred yards before he
heard her pony cantering after his. One glance told him she was furious,
both at him and at herself.

"Did you come after your handkerchief, ma'am? I'm not through with it
yet," he said innocently.

"I'm going with you. I'm not going to leave you till we meet some one
that will take charge of you," she choked.

"It isn't necessary. I'm much obliged, ma'am, but you're overestimating
the effect of this pill your friend injected into me."

"Still, I'm going. I won't have your death on my hands," she told him
defiantly.

"Sho! I ain't aimin' to pass over the divide on account of a scratch
like this. There's no danger but what I can look out for myself."

She waited in silence for him to start, looking straight ahead of her.

He tried in vain to argue her out of it. She had nothing to say, and he
saw she was obstinately determined to carry her point.

Finally, with a little chuckle at her stubbornness, he gave in and
turned round.