She did not wonder, nor question, nor analyze her emotions.

She only felt.

It was Phil who was hurt--Phil, the boy with whom she had played when she was a little girl--the lad with whom she had gone to school--the young man who had won the first love of her young woman heart.

It was Phil, her Phil, who was hurt, and she must go to him--she must go fast, fast! It seemed to Kitty that hours passed before she reached the meadow lane.
She was glad that Curly had left the gates open.

As she crossed the familiar ground between the old Acton home and the ranch house on the other side of the sandy wash, she saw them.