Cleveland County herald., 1921-01-06
other strange thing happened-the

two little spots of blue set between clouds of pink and gold. The gorge top opened wider He came back to the two patches of sky; smiled oddly
 they had ransfgured; had become the eyes of the Wild Rose.
 The shooting had brought her. Her arm was under his head, and she was saying something. A tinge of crimson deepened the pink in her cheeks when his eyes came open. What if he had | heard But she met his eyes with frank directness. He lay looking up at her long time; trying to compre- bend it all; the wonder of itl-that she was therel
 She helped him edge q little nearer the brink of the ledge, raised him, and he drank out of her cupped palm. Whether it was the cup he drank from or the thirst that parched him, he took no thought, but it was the sweetest drink that ever passed his lips. She eased him back upon the ledge, her arm still under his head. A strand of her hair fell upon his face. She tried to shake it off. He put up his hand and covered It.
 Her eyes dropped to his wounded side.
 'I didn't know he was the Red Mask" she said, as if in pursuance of his first remark, "till those men came this morning."
 Her next words were low and thought
 
 ful. I've wondered if it could have been he that hurt Daddy?"
 Tt was him.
 The girls breath quickened. He saw her fingers clench.
 But there was much to do. Her eyes turned again to his blood-stained gar ments, and she set about uncoyering the wounded side. There was little enough to remove--a shred or two of tattered shirt; a laying back of the torn blouse. After the first start at ously thoughtful. The color mounted to her face; he tried to meet her eyes, but they turned away.
 Can you spare me for q minute?"
 For answer he lifted his head. She took away her arm, eased him back upon ahe rock, and he heard her light step as she sprang around an angle of the cliff.
 She was gone barely more than the minute asked for. When she returned she was carrying in her hands num- Der of strips-bandages- white cloth. Where she got them--well. that's her secret.
 The bullet had cut deep, ragged gash just below the armpit. It had grazed a rib, but seemingly had not broken it. With that encouraging fact established, and the sting of the wound much allayed, the mind of the man began reaching forward to the night; the all-important night-when certain suave individual in a frock coat would come to feed certain horse. He said no word of this to the girl already binding the bandages around the clean-washed wound. She would have secuted the bare sugges- ton of the things he was planning to do the moment the dark was sufficient ly dense to hide him.
 She drew what was left of his tat tered shirt and blouse over the ban dage at last. laid his wounded arm across his breast and slung it there by a strip of cloth passed up around his neck. and helped him to his feet.
 It shamed him that he was abso- lutely compelled to cling fast to her, to lean heavy upon her, or go back to the rock. His face was far too white to show the modification he felt, but she saw it in his eyes. Lifting his well arm and laying 1t across her shoulders, she caught her left arm about his blouse waist and steadied him.
 The Wild Rose seemed to have talk en toll of every bit of sunshine that ever struck the Flatwoods. That was the distinguishing feature of her per sonality. That and her good, sound sense. Her face was beaming full of both right now-the sunshine and the sense. She was smiling up at him. he knew. He was staring away above her head-hut he knew. The smile grad ually drew his eyes down out of the trees. He could no more help it than he could help leaning upon her She laughed-a heartening little laugh like the happy water curling against the ledge. He laughed back. He couldn't help 1t. The restraint was broken; the smart gone.
 He glanced down at the ledge before leaving to see that no tell-tale blood spots or bits of cloth were left. A needless precaution--her woodcraft was as fine as his own.
 How she managed to lead him, half carry him, out of the rocky and brok en gulcheS of Fox Den and down the rough banks of Wolf Run to the cabin of the three gables she never knew Neither did he. It always remained matter of wonder to him. Who does know the source of power-that mys- terious augmentation of strength--that comes to woman In crisis?
 She led him into the house and to the sofa in the main room; the queer little leather-covered bed that had