Some of the others had already started away.

Toot did not move. He was still looking at the spot where Harriet
Floyd had stood.

"It simply means the halter, you blamed fool!"

Wambush stared into the mask of the speaker, and then reluctantly rode
away.




Chapter VIII

When Harriet returned she found Westerfelt lying face downward on the
floor. In his fall he had unconsciously clutched and torn down the
curtain, and like a shroud it lay over him. She was trying to raise
him, when the door opened and her mother appeared.

"What's the matter, Harriet?"

"He has fainted--I don't know, he may be dead. Look, mother!"

Mrs. Floyd raised Westerfelt's head and turned his face upward.

"No, he's still breathing." She opened his shirt hastily. "His wound
has not broken; we must get him to bed again. How did he happen to be
here?"