Among the piñons at the rock rim above Bob found June. He had not seen her since the day when she had saved him from a thrashing. The boy was not very proud of the way he had behaved. If he had not shown the white feather, he had come dangerously close to it.
“How are cases, June?”
His eyes, which had been rather dodging hers, came to rest on the girl at last. One glance told him that she was in trouble.
“I don’ know what to do, Bob,” she broke out. “Jake will be back to-day—by dinner-time, I reckon. He says I’ve got to go with him to Bear Cat an’ be married to-morrow.”
Dillon opened his lips to speak, but he said nothing. He remembered how he had counseled her to boldness before and failed at the pinch. What advice could he give? What could he say to comfort his friend?
“Haven’t you got any folks you could go to—some one who would tell Houck where to head in at?”
She shook her head. “My father’s all I’ve got.”
“Won’t he help you?”
“He would, but—I can’t ask him. I got to pretend to him I’d just as lief marry Jake.”
“Why have you?”