"I reckon thet's all right."

"And what's worse, I've got to be more trouble. Did you see anything
of a brown mule?"

She shook her head.

"He must have wandered off. May I ask to whom I'm indebted for this
first aid to the injured?"

"I don't know what ye means."

She had propped him against the rocks, and sat near-by, looking into
his face with almost disconcerting steadiness; her solemn-pupiled eyes
were unblinking, unsmiling. Unaccustomed to the gravity of the
mountaineer in the presence of strangers, he feared that he had
offended her. Perhaps his form of speech struck her as affected.

"Why, I mean who are you?" he laughed.

"I hain't nobody much. I jest lives over yon."

"But," insisted the man, "surely you have a name."

She nodded.

"Hit's Sally."

"Then, Miss Sally, I want to thank you."