Gradually he gained his ends, and as gradually the work on the aqueduct allotted to his camp showed improvement. Never before had Nash worked so earnestly and with so much confidence. He felt as if on his shoulders alone rested the success or the failure of this wonderful waterway. He instilled the same fervor, the same enthusiasm, into the work of those under him, and soon the complaining wore away, and every man of them entered into the struggle with that supreme, indomitable spirit that recognizes no such word as failure.
One blistering hot afternoon, when he was riding slowly over the high trail that led from the main road to the camp, Nash heard the wild gallop of hoofs behind him. Before he could turn, a frightened horse dashed past, careening madly down the path, threatening each second to topple into the ravine below.
Nash drew rein. “That horse was saddled,” he said aloud. “I wonder if there’s been an accident?”
He struck his pony sharply, and descended the trail. Half a mile on he stopped, uttered an exclamation, leaped from his saddle, and knelt beside the quiet form of a woman. She was lying in a matted clump of scrub oak, where the horse had probably thrown her.
Carefully he drew an arm away from her face. There was a cut above her closed eyes, and the crimson had run down over her cheek, staining the lace on her collar. She seemed so quiet, so very white, that for the instant Nash believed she was dead. It was only when he took his handkerchief and wiped her forehead that she sighed and allowed her eyes to flutter open.
“Just in time,” he said encouragingly. “Not hurt much, I hope?”
She seemed conscious suddenly of where she was, and of what had happened. She sat up and passed a limp hand across her eyes.
“I—I guess not,” she faltered unsteadily. “My horse threw me. I—I remember falling, and then——”
“Your forehead’s cut,” Nash said; “not very deep, though. You’ve this brush here to thank for your escape. If you had fallen to these rocks, there would have been real damage.”
He helped her up. She was a trifle dizzy at first, but it soon wore away. She allowed him to bind his handkerchief about her head.