"This way! Quick!" As he stumbled toward her she noted the pallor of his face. She didn't dare leave the horses to go to his assistance. With a bridle in each hand she went forward to meet him.
"I'm about all--in, Mrs. Lieut.," he panted. "The blow and this climb have about finished a job the--war--started."
She slipped her arm under his. Her eyes were tender with concern.
"Lean on me a moment. You mustn't give way now, Beechy. Get on Ranlett's horse. We must get away from here. He may follow." He laughed weakly.
"Follow! Nothing doing. Just to make sure he wouldn't I put a bullet through his leg. I couldn't have him interferin' with the job you an' I have to put across. He'll go as far as the shack while the goin's good."
"You should worry. There are provisions to withstand a siege cached under that cabin. Forget him. If you're the good little sport I you are you've got a job----"
Jerry laid her hand over her heart. Beechy raised his heavy head from the side of the horse where he had rested it. His eyes narrowed into mere slits. From the hillside came the sound of slipping gravel.
"It's Ranlett! He's creeping up!" the girl whispered tensely. "You must mount. He may have found a gun." Then as he shook his head weakly, "If you don't I shall stay with you and you may never get a chance to tell me what I am to do."
"Help me up!" The white beneath Beechy's skin had changed to crimson. His teeth clenched as he pulled himself into the saddle. He held tight to the horn with his two hands.
"Mount! Quick!" he panted. "Now ride close beside me while I tell you----" for an instant his eyes lost their purpose. He slipped over to one side. Jerry caught him and steadied him.
"'Tention company!" he drawled foolishly as he tried to straighten in the saddle.
"You must keep on, Beechy! Grip your mind tight till we reach the Lieutenant," pleaded the girl, always with one ear turned to the sinister, slipping sound that drew nearer and nearer up the hillside. It seemed as though the reference to Courtlandt had power to conjure strength. With a stifled groan the man eased himself in the saddle.
"I can ride this way. Don't lose your sand, Mrs. Lieut. I've pulled through worse scrapes than this. We'll beat 'em yet."