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She
noticed that she was coming into a region of grass, and faint signs of water
in the draws. She was getting high again, not many miles now from the wall of
rock.
All at once Sage King shied, and Lucy looked down to see a man lying on the
ground. He lay inert. But his eyes were open--dark, staring eyes. They moved.
And he called. But Lucy could not understand him.
In a flash she leaped off the King. She ran to the prostrate man--dropped to
her knees.
"Oh!" she cried. His face was ghastly. "Oh! are you--you badly hurt?"
"Lift me--my head," he said, faintly.
She raised his head. What a strained, passionate, terrible gaze he bent upon
the horses.
"Boy, they're mine--the black an' the red!" he cried.
"They surely must be," replied Lucy. "Oh! tell me. Are you hurt?"
"Boy! did you catch them--fetch them back--lookin' for me?"
"I sure did."
"You caught-that red devil--an' fetched him--back to me?" went on the
wondering, faint voice. "Boy--oh--boy!"
He lifted a long, ragged arm and pulled Lucy down.


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