"I'd do my best for it and let it settle with the law afterward."

"Even if it were a wolf caught in a trap?"

"I should put it out of its pain. No matter how much I detested it, I
wouldn't leave it there to suffer."

"I'm quite sure you wouldn't," the wounded man agreed.

Yeager looked from one to the other, not quite catching the drift of the
underlying meaning. Another thing puzzled him, too. But, like most men
of the unfenced Southwest, Yeager had a large capacity for silence. Now
he attended strictly to his business, without mentioning what he had
noticed.

The wound dressed, Phyllis rose to leave. "You'll be down for your mail
to-morrow, Jim," she suggested, as she sauntered toward the door.

"Sure. I'll let you know how our patient is getting along."

"Oh, he's yours. I don't want any of the credit," she returned
carelessly.

Then, the words scarce off her lips, she gave a little cry of alarm, and
stepped quickly back into the room. What she had seen had sapped the
color from her face. Yeager started forward, but she waved him back.

"It's Phil and Brill Healy. You've got to hide us, Jim," she told him
tensely.