He abruptly released her hands and turned away; but he shot round again as he heard her reply.
“I shall nurse him,” she said.
“You will not.”
The girl laughed hysterically. The scene had been too much for her, and she was on the verge of breaking down.
“We shall see,” she cried after him, as he passed out of the room.
The whole ranch was astir when Arizona returned with Doc. Osler. Nor did they come alone. Fyles had met them on the trail. He had just returned from a fruitless pursuit of the raiders. He had personally endeavored to track Red Mask, but the rustler had evaded him in the thick bush that lined the river; and his men had been equally unsuccessful with the rest of the band. The hills had been their goal, and they had made it through the excellence of their horses. Although the pursuers were well mounted their horses were heavier, and lost ground hopelessly in the midst of the broken land of the foot-hills.
Jake was closeted with the rancher at the coming of the doctor and his companions; but their confabulation was brought to an abrupt termination at once.
The doctor went to the wounded man, who still remained unconscious, while Fyles joined the rancher and his foreman in a discussion of the night’s doings. And while these things were going on Arizona and Joe shared the hospitality of the lean-to.
The meeting in the rancher’s den had not proceeded far when a summons from up-stairs cut it short. Diane brought a message from the doctor asking her father and the sheriff to join him. Marbolt displayed unusual alacrity, and Fyles followed him as he tapped his way up to the sick-room. Here the stick was abandoned, and he was led to his seat by his daughter. Diane was pale, but alert and determined; while her father wore a gentle look of the utmost concern. The doctor was standing beside the window gazing out over the pastures, but he turned at once as they came in.
“A nasty case, Mr. Marbolt,” he said, the moment the rancher had taken up his position. “A very nasty case.” He was a brusque little man with a pair of keen black eyes, which he turned on the blind man curiously. “An artery cut by bullet. Small artery. Your daughter most cleverly stopped bleeding. Many thanks to her. Patient lost gallons of blood. Precarious position—very. No danger from wound now. Exhaustion only. Should he bleed again—death. But he won’t; artery tied up securely. Miss Marbolt says you desire patient removed to usual quarters. I say no! Remove him—artery break afresh—death. Sheriff, I order distinctly this man remains where he is. Am I right? Have I right?”