Then the woman, the third factor in the triangle, stirred restlessly and awoke. She looked at them incuriously from innocent eyes still heavy with slumber. Gradually the meaning of the scene came home to her, and with it a realization that Steve Yeager was standing before her in the flesh.
"You—here!" she cried, scarce believing.
"The cur lied," explained the cowpuncher. "It was a frame-up to get you in his power."
"But your letter said—"
"Never mind about that now. Go down into the wash and bring up my horse. It needs water."
She hesitated. "You're not going to hurt him, Steve?"
"That's between him and me. Do as I say."
Ruth scarcely recognized in this grim, hard-faced man with the blazing eyes the gay youth whom she knew at home. She felt in his manner the steel of compulsion. Without further protest she moved to obey him. She was fearful of what was about to take place, but her heart leaped with gladness. Steve was alive and strong. It was not true that he lay with the life ebbing out of him, all the supple strength stolen from his well-knit body. For the moment that was happiness enough.
Harrison, watching with narrowed eyes the stone-wall face of his captor, jeered at him hardily.