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But finally he drank. Lucy led him up the wash to another likely
place, and tied him securely.
When she got back to the camp in the cedars the rider was there, on his knees,
kindling the fire. His clean-shaved face and new apparel made him vastly
different. He was young, and, had he not been so gaunt, he would have been
fine-looking, Lucy thought.
"Wildfire remembered me," Lucy burst out. "He wasn't a bit scary. Let me
handle him. Followed me to water."
"He's taken to you," replied the rider, seriously. "I've heard of the like,
but not so quick. Was he in a bad fix when you got to him yesterday?"
Lucy explained briefly.
"Aha! . . . If that red devil has any love in him I'll never get it. I wish I
could have done so much for him. But always when he sees me he'll remember."
Lucy saw that the rider was in difficulties. He could not bend his back, and
evidently it pained him to try. His brow was moist.
"Let me do that," she said.
"Thanks. It took about all my strength to get into this new outfit," he said,
relinquishing, his place to Lucy.


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