“It is not his fault. I came in here when he could not stop me. And I mean to remain. But there is no use in anybody else being exposed to contagion—if there is any contagion in the disease.”
“Why, it’s as bad as small-pox, Ruth!” cried Jane Ann.
“I am here,” returned Ruth, quietly. “Have you brought us food? And is that spirits in the bottle Mr. Darcy has?”
“Yes, Miss,” said the cowboy.
“Set it down on that stone—and the other things. I’ll come and get it. A few drops of the liquor in the water may help the man a little.”
“But, dear Ruth,” interposed Tom, gravely, “he is nothing to you. Don’t run such risks. If the man must be nursed I’ll try my hand——”
“Indeed you shall not!”
“It’s a job for a man, Miss,” said Darcy, grimly. “You mount your pony and go home with the others. I’ll stay.”
“If any harm is done, it’s done already,” declared the girl, earnestly. “One of you can stay outside and help me—guard me, if you please. There’s been an awful old wolf about——”
“A wolf!” gasped Tom.