“You are a brick,” he said. “How can we get him? He'd double me up like a jack-knife. Remember I only played quarter,” he added.
“No, no,” she cried quickly, “you stay here to watch him. Let me go back for the Police.”
“I say,” cried the doctor, “you are a wonder. There's something in that.” He thought rapidly, then said, “No, it won't do. I can't allow you to risk it.”
“Risk? Risk what?”
A year ago the doctor would not have hesitated a moment to allow her to go, but now he thought of the roving bands of Indians and the possibility of the girl falling into their hands.
“No, Miss Cameron, it will not do.”
“But think,” she cried, “we might get him and save Allan all the trouble and perhaps his life. You must not stop me. You cannot stop me. I am going. You wait and watch. Don't move. I can find my way.”
He seized her by the arm.
“Wait,” he said, “let me think.”
“What danger can there be?” she pleaded. “It is broad daylight. The road is good. I cannot possibly lose my way. I am used to riding alone among the hills at home.”