“Matches!” grumbled Helen. “Can’t he find anything dry to burn down there and so make a steady light?”
She shouted again.
“This way, Miss!” she heard the stranger cry.
The ponies picked their way carefully over the loose shale that had fallen to the foot of the bluff. There were trees, too, to make the way darker.
“Hi!” cried Helen. “Why didn’t you light a fire?”
“Why, to tell you the truth, I had some difficulty in getting down here, and I—I had to rest.”
The words were followed by a groan that the young man evidently could not suppress.
“Why, you’re more badly hurt than you said!” cried the girl. “I’d better get help; hadn’t I?”
“A doctor is out of the question, I guess. I believe that foot’s broken.”
“Huh! You’re from the East!” she said, suddenly.