"I hauled you into the bush as soon as I got a chance—in the confusion—and gradually, got you back in here. But I think they're lookin' for us, so we'd better get a move on soon as you're fit enough."
"Where's Jesse?"
"Beat it, I reckon. Haven't seen him."
"I see." And then, "Brierly, I'm obliged to you. I'll try to make it up to you for this."
"You needn't bother. I'm for you. You can't let a lot of roughnecks put it over on you like this."
"No—I can't—I can't," muttered Peter.
"I wish we had a bunch of the boys I was with over in France down here. There's a few up in May's Landing who'd clean this lot up in no time."
"I wish we had them." Peter straightened with some difficulty and rose to a sitting posture as the thought came to him. "I've got to get to the 'phone, Brierly."
"No. I wouldn't advise that—not here. Those roughnecks are between us and the office—in the office too, I reckon, by this time. It wouldn't be safe. Who were you goin' to 'phone to?"
"May's Landing—the Sheriff. I'm going to see this thing through."