“Never mind father. Come along.”
The man’s horse-like attempt at lightness had its effect. The girl pulled herself together. She realized the emergency. She knew that Tresler needed her help. Arizona’s manner had only emphasized the gravity of his case.
She ran on ahead, and the other, bearing the unconscious man, followed.
“Never mind father,” Arizona muttered doubtfully. “Wal, here goes.” Then he called back to Joe: “Git around that mare an’ sling the saddle on a fresh plug; guess I’ll need it.”
He passed through the kitchen, and stepping into the hall he was startled by the apparition of the blind man standing in the doorway of his bedroom. He was clad in his customary dressing-gown, and his eyes glowed ruddily in the light of the kitchen lamp.
“What’s this?” he asked sharply.
“Tresler’s bin done up,” Arizona replied at once. “Guess the gang got around Willow Bluff—God’s curse light on ’em!”
“Hah! And where are you taking him?”
“Up-sta’rs,” was the brief reply. Then the cowpuncher bethought him of his duty to his employer. “Guess the cattle are safe, fer which you ken thank the sheriff’s gang. Miss Dianny’s hustlin’ a bunk fer him,” he added.