I soon calmed their fears of any further trouble or possible disturbance.

Miss Sampson then became curious and wanted to know who the rustler was.
"How strange he should come here," she said several times.
"Probably he'd run this way or thought he had a better chance to hide where there was dancing and confusion," I replied glibly.
I wondered how much longer I would find myself keen to shunt her mind from any channel leading to suspicion.
"Would papa have arrested him ?" she asked.
"Colonel Sampson might have made it hot for him," I replied frankly, feeling that if what I said had a double meaning it still was no lie.
"Oh, I forgot--the Ranger!" she exclaimed suddenly.

"That awful sight--the whole front of him bloody! Russ, how could he stand up under such a wound?
Do you think it'll kill him ?" "That's hard to say.

A man like Steele can stand a lot." "Russ, please go find him! See how it is with him!" she said, almost pleadingly.
I started, glad of the chance and hurried down toward the town.
There was a light in the little adobe house where he lived, and proceeding cautiously, so as to be sure no one saw me, I went close and whistled low in a way he would recognize.

Then he opened the door and I went in.
"Hello, son!" he said.