"Which is your Casey Dunne?" asked Hess.

Clyde stared with troubled eyes.

"I--I don't see him. There's Tom McHale, and the sheriff, and Sandy McCrae, and the old Indian. Why, Tom McHale has been hurt. His arm is in a sling. How slowly they ride! It's--it's like a funeral. Surely nothing can have happened. Oh, surely----" She caught her breath sharply, her eyes dilating. "Look!" she cried. "The last pack horse!"

The load on the last horse was a shapeless thing, not compact and built up like a pack, but hanging low on either side, shrouded by a canvas.

From under this cover a hand and arm dangled, swinging to and fro with each motion of the animal.

Clyde felt a great fear, cold as the clutch of a dead hand itself, close on her heart, driving the young blood from her cheeks. "It can't be!" she said to herself. "Oh--it _can't_ be."

Hess swore beneath his breath. If it were Casey Dunne lying across that pack horse----He put a huge protective arm around Clyde's shoulders, as if to shield her from the evil they both feared.

But she slipped from beneath his arm and fled down the steps toward the party who would have pa.s.sed in the direction of the stables without halting. The sheriff, seeing her, pulled up. She caught McHale's hardened paw in both her hands, searching his eyes for the truth. But McHale's face, though weary and lined with pain, and, moreover, rendered decidedly unprepossessing by a growth of stubble, contained no signs of disaster.

"Where's Casey, Tom?"

"Casey?" McHale replied. "Why, he hiked on ahead to git a medicine man to fix up this arm of mine. Arm's done busted. He ought to be here most any time now."

To Clyde it was as if the sun had shot through a lowering, ominous cloud. She was faint with the joy of relief. "Thank G.o.d! Thank G.o.d!"

she murmured.

"You seem to be upset about something, ma'am," said the sheriff gently.

"Has anything went wrong?"

Hess answered for her. "What have you got on that last pack horse, sheriff?"

Jim Dove looked around and muttered an oath. "If that ain't plumb careless of me! I thought I had him all covered up. Rope must have slipped. That's Jake Betts, holdup and bad man, that's been callin'

himself Dade around here. There's five hundred reward for him, and to collect the money I had to pack him in. I sure didn't allow to scare any women by lettin' an arm hang loose. And the little lady thought it was Dunne? Dunne's all safe and rugged. We thought he'd be here ahead of us."

Hess followed the sheriff to the stable and introduced himself, going directly to the point, as was his custom.

"Sheriff," he said, "I've just come, and naturally I don't know all that has happened, but there are two or three things I want you to know. In the first place, my niece, Miss Burnaby, is going to marry this man Dunne. And, in the second place, I'm now running this irrigation company and the railway that owns it, and so far as any prosecutions are concerned I won't have anything to do with them. Does that make any difference to you?"

"Some," said the sheriff. "It lets young McCrae out, I reckon."

"How about McHale?"

"That's a killin'. You got nothin' to do with that. Anyway, he's got a good defence."

"I'll sign his bail bond to any amount."

"I reckon there won't be no trouble about that," said the sheriff. "I know a man when I see him. McHale's all right. You won't find me makin'

things hard for anybody around here, Mr. Hess."

In half an hour Casey rode up, bringing with him a man of medicine in the person of Doctor Billy Swift. And Billy Swift, whose chronic grievance was that Coldstream was altogether too healthy for a physician to live in, greeted his patients with enthusiasm and got busy at once.

Hess, strolling up from a confidential talk with Sheriff Dove, ran into Clyde and Casey snugly ensconced in a corner of the veranda, where thick hop vines shaded them from the public gaze.

"Excuse _me_!" said Hess, with little originality, but much embarra.s.sment.

"Not at all," Casey replied, under the impression that he was carrying off matters very nonchalantly. Clyde laughed at both of them.

"We don't mind you, Uncle Jim, do we, Casey?"

"Look here," said Hess, "if this is the young man who has been raisin'

Cain around here, and destroying my property before I owned it, suppose you introduce me?"

The two men shook hands, gripping hard, measuring each other with their eyes. And Clyde was tactful enough to leave them to develop their acquaintance alone.

"I want to thank you for your wire to Clyde," said Casey. "You can guess what it meant to all of us here."

"I've a fair notion," said Hess. "Of course, I only know what Clyde has told me, but I can see that you people have been up against a hard proposition. After this I hope you won't have much to kick at. We won't take advantage of that clause in the old railway charter--at least not enough to interfere with men who are actually using water now. But I want you to be satisfied with enough to irrigate, used economically."

"That's all we ever wanted."

"I'm glad to hear it. Now I've fixed up this matter of young McCrae's.

That's settled. No more trouble about it. As to your man, McHale, I'm told that his trial will be a mere matter of form. Wade will look after that. Now, about Clyde."

"Yes," said Casey.

"She's her own mistress--you understand that. You have a good property here--not as much money as she has, but enough to get along on if she hadn't anything. That's all right. I suppose her money's no drawback, eh? Don't look mad about it, young man. You're fond of her, of course.

I understand you made what you've got yourself?"

"Every cent. I've been out for myself since I was about fifteen. This is what I've got to show for it."

"And it's a good little stake," said Hess heartily. "I made my own pile, too. That's what I like. Now, I'm going to ask you a personal question: What sort of life have you behind you? You understand me.

There must be no comeback where Clyde is concerned. I want a straight answer."

"You'll get it. I've always been too busy to be foolish. My habits are about average--possibly better than average. I'm absolutely healthy.

I've not had a day's sickness--bar accidents--since I grew up. There's absolutely no reason why I shouldn't marry Clyde."

"That's the boy!" said old Jim Hess, with satisfaction, gripping his hand again. "Your stock's par with me, remember, and I want you to consider me your friend, even if I am to be a relation by marriage."

Shortly afterward Sheila and Farwell arrived on hard-ridden horses.

"She hustled me right over here," said the latter. "Didn't even give me time to shave. I told her McHale and Sandy were all right, but she had to come to see for herself."

"Seeing that Sandy has eaten six fried eggs with bacon and bread buns to match, I imagine he may be regarded as convalescent," laughed Casey.

"Tom has the tobacco trust half broken already."

Sandy McCrae squirmed uneasily in his sister's embrace, finding it embarra.s.sing.

"That's plenty, that's plenty!" he growled. "You'd think I was a sole survivor or something. Say, what are you trying to do--choke me? There, you've kissed me three times already. Ouch! Darn it, don't hug me. My side's sore. Try that hold on Farwell. He looks as if he wouldn't mind."

Casey laughed. Sheila and Farwell reddened. A smothered chuckle from McHale showed that he was enjoying himself. He grinned over Sandy's shoulder.

"Howdy, Miss Sheila? Brothers don't know their own luck. Wisht I had a sister about your size."

"I'll adopt you right now!" she declared, and proceeded to give practical proof of it, somewhat to his confusion.