CHAPTER XI.
Three nights after the day of “The Murder at Connor’s Leap,” as the papers called it, Aleck Gault was sitting drowsing over a fire high up on the hills, his dog sleeping near him. He was roused by the growl of the dog, but although he sat up and strained his ears for a sound, he could hear nothing, till the dog sat up with ears pricked and suddenly rushed off into the darkness barking loudly. Aleck rose and followed him and called out “Anybody there?” He heard the barking of the dog suddenly hushed, and then no further sound.
“Is that you, Steve?” he called. “This is Aleck, and there’s nobody else here.”
“Right,” a voice answered immediately, “I’m coming,” and presently Steve Knight moved slowly into the light of the fire.
Aleck Gault looked at him in an amazement that gave way to pity. “Lord, Stevie boy,” he said, “you look bad. What’s wrong? I thought you’d be miles away.”
Steve dropped by the fire. “I suppose it’s safe here?” he said. “I’ve been creeping up to the light to try and see who it was for an hour past. The dog spotted me before I could make you out.”
“There’s not likely to be anyone within miles,” said Aleck. “The dog would scent them in time. I guessed it was you when he went off barking glad-like that way. He wouldn’t to any but a Ridge man, and no Ridge man but yourself would be trying to come up quiet. But what’s the matter?”
Steve unbuttoned his jacket and held it open, and Aleck leaned forward with an exclamation of horror. Steve’s breast was bare, save for a bloody bandage made from his torn shirt and wound tightly round his body, and even as he looked Aleck could see the red of fresh blood oozing from beneath the rags.
“My horse came down before I’d gone a mile,” said Steve. “He pitched me clear, and I fell on my chest and side on some sharp-edged rocks. They’re flesh wounds only, I think, though maybe one of the ribs is cracked—it hurts enough for it. But old Vulcan broke a leg, and I had to finish him. Poor brute, I had to make him hobble on three legs over to a gully, where I could drop him to be out of sight, and that hurt worse than my side.”
“Let’s have a look at it,” said Aleck Gault, throwing off his own jacket and starting to pull his shirt off. “We’ll make you some more bandages and fix you up better. And to-morrow I’ll bring up anything I can to dress it, and proper bandages.”