She knelt on the opposite side of the unconscious man.
“Bring some water, Drew,” she sharply commanded. “Bring something with which we can bandage his head.”
“Why don’t ye let him die?” whined the old man.
“It would be a bad thing for you if we did,” she returned. “His deputy has puckacheed, and he won’t do a thing but bring a posse here as soon as possible. It will be all the better for you if Bill Higgins is all right when the posse appears.”
“I’m ruined anyway,” declared Drew. “I’ll have to git out. They will search, and they’re bound to find everything if they do.”
“We’ll have everything out of here before morning, and then let them search. The first job is to fix Bill Higgins up.”
Water was brought, and she bathed the head of the unconscious man, who groaned a little once or twice. Then Frank aided her in adjusting a bandage. Once their hands touched, and she drew away quickly, catching her breath, as if she had been stung.
Frank looked at her in wonder, and saw that she had flushed and then grown very pale. Her eyes met his, and then her lashes drooped, while the blush crept back into her cheeks.
What did it mean?
More than ever was this girl an enigma to him.