He blundered to his feet, then through the small dining room and into her own quarters, adjoining the kitchen, she finally staggered with him and helped him onto her bed.
“Not a sound, now!” she warned.
“I’ll never ferget you for this, Miss—Miss Huntington,” he said hoarsely.
She closed the door after her as she went out, locked it, and hurriedly arranged her appearance before the wall glass in the kitchen. Then she threw on a sunbonnet and took a glistening something out of a drawer in the cupboard. She walked out of the back door, just as the stranger, having finished his investigations at the gate, approached along the driveway, leading his horse. He touched his hat to her as she came in view around the corner of the house, one hand hidden in the folds of her skirt.
“I jest dropped in to get a swaller of water for Chain Lightnin’—if you don’t mind,” he said pleasantly. “It’s right hot travelin’.”
“I shouldn’t wonder. Help yourself.” She indicated the trough near by. She looked him over, with obvious suspicion.
While his horse drank, the visitor’s eyes wandered apparently aimlessly over the vicinity; they took in the girl, the buildings, the fresh hoofprints in the mud around the trough. He even hearkened to the munching of an animal in the barn—hungry munching, that was. Presently he sauntered back to her and halted a step away.
“You didn’t happen to see a feller ride by this way an hour or so ago, miss? Mighta looked shot—bleedin’ bad?” he said, watching her narrowly.
She nodded. “About two hours ago—yes. Are you——”
“By that you mean, he come an’ went—is that it?”