“About all we can do for the poor fellow is to bury him,” muttered Jib.
“If there was no other reason than that he is a helpless fellow-being, we could not go away and leave him here unattended,” declared the girl, gravely. “You know that well enough, Jib.”
“Oh, we’ll wait around. But he’s got to die. He’s so far gone that nothing can save him. And I oughtn’t to go into the shack, either. That fever is contagious, and he’s just full of it!”
“We must get help for him,” cried Ruth, suddenly.
“What sort of help?” demanded the Indian.
“Why, the ranch is not so awfully far away, and I know that Mr. Hicks keeps a big stock of medicines. He will have something for this case.”
“Then let’s hustle back,” said Jib, starting to climb into his saddle.
“But the coyote—and other savage beasts!” exclaimed Ruth.
“Gee! I forgot that,” muttered Jib.
“One of us must stay here.”