"Oh!" said Rhoda understandingly. "I'm so dizzy I can't see you very
well. This is very good of you. Perhaps now you'd go on and get the
buckboard. Tell them it's for Rhoda, Rhoda Tuttle. I just went out
for a walk and then--"

Her voice trailed into nothingness and she could only steady her
swaying body with both hands against the rock.

"Huh!" grunted young Cartwell. "I go on to the house and leave you
here in the boiling sun!"

"Would you mind hurrying?" asked Rhoda.

"Not at all," returned Cartwell.

He plucked the stocking and slipper from the yucca and dropped them
into his pocket. Then he stooped and lifted Rhoda across his broad
chest. This roused her.

"Why, you can't do this!" she cried, struggling to free herself.

Cartwell merely tightened his hold and swung out at a pace that was
half run, half walk.

"Close your eyes so the sun won't hurt them," he said peremptorily.

Dizzily and confusedly, Rhoda dropped her head back on the broad
shoulder and closed her eyes, with a feeling of security that later on
was to appall her. Long after she was to recall the confidence of this