"Can you ride, Steve? Do you reckon you could make out the five
miles?" Dick asked.

Arlie answered for him. She had felt the inert weight of his heavy
body and knew that he was beyond helping himself. "No. Is there no
house near? There's Alec Howard's cabin."

"He's at the round-up, but I guess we had better take Steve there-- if
we could make out to get him that far."

The girl took command quietly. "Unsaddle Teddy."

She had unloosened his shirt and was tying her silk kerchief over the
wound, from which blood was coming in little jets.

"We can't carry him," she decided. "It's too far. We'll have to lift
him to the back of the horse, and let him lie there. Steady, Dick.
That's right. You must hold him on, while I lead the horse."

Heavy as he was, they somehow hoisted him, and started. He had fainted
again, and hung limply, with his face buried in the mane of the pony.
It seemed an age before the cabin loomed, shadow-like, out of the
darkness. They found the door unlocked, as usual, and carried him in
to the bed.

"Give me your knife, Dick," Arlie ordered quietly. "And I want water.
If that's a towel over there, bring it."

"Just a moment. I'll strike a light, and we'll see where we're at."