"That's all right, Juan—José—Pedro—Francisco—whatever your name is. You've done your levelest. Now, hike back to the ranch. Vamos! Sabe."
"Si, señor."
Dick heard the wheels disappear in the distance, and laughed aloud.
"That young woman's conscience is hurting her. I reckon this tramp to Corbett's is going to worry her tender heart about as much as it does me, and I've got to sweat blood before I get through with it. Here goes again, Dicky."
Every step sent a pain shooting through him, but he was the last man to give up on that account what he had undertaken.
"She let me go without any lunch," he chuckled. "I'll bet that troubles her some, too, when she remembers. She's got me out of the house, but I'll bet the last strike in the Nancy K. against a dollar Mex that she ain't got me out of her mind by a heap."
A buggy appeared in sight driven by a stout, red-faced old man. Evidently he was on his way to the ranch.
"Who, hello, Doctor! I'm plumb glad to see you; couldn't wait till you came, and had just to start out to meet you," cried Dick.
He stood laughing at the amazement in the face of the doctor, who was in two minds whether to get angry or not.
"Doggone your hide, what are you doing here? Didn't I tell you not to walk more than a few steps?" that gentleman protested.