[17]The light pitched backward, fell clattering on the rocks. A muffled impact and a sullen thwack of metal told that the man and his gun too had been knocked down by the recoil. Over behind the bowlder something else thudded softly and was still.

[17]

But, though dropped, the lantern burned faithfully on. Its ray lit up a pair of high-laced boots, tan corduroys, and a hammerless shotgun sprawling on a slanting bowlder. A second later a broad hand swooped at it and righted it. The gun was lifted, broken at the breech, swiftly reloaded and snapped shut. Then the legs drew up and the light rose, darting at the girl.

She was huddled where she had dropped, but her pale face was alive and her gray eyes wide open. As the glare fell on her she threw up an arm to shield her dark-dilated pupils. Upon the tanned skin of that firm young forearm showed a long red gash.

“Good Lord! You’re badly hurt!” exclaimed the man.

The lips under the shadowing arm curved in a strained smile.

“’Tain’t much,” she deprecated. “I got a gouge when I tumbled. Guess you kilt Mister Catamount, or scairt him off anyway. They take a mighty lot of killin’ sometimes. Now can you git me down to where I can walk? My ankle’s hurt.”

A quiet laugh of admiration came from the invisible man.

“You’re a plucky little lady,” he informed her. “Most girls in your place would be fainting or going[18] all to pieces. As for walking, I don’t know. This is a tough hole to navigate in after dark. But we’ll see.”

[18]

The light moved toward her. As it advanced the man added in a chiding tone: “You shouldn’t have dropped like that. No wonder your ankle’s hurt.”

“Is that so! What was I goin’ to do, Mister Smarty—let that critter claw me? And I hurt my leg an hour ago, not jest now. And I wish you’d look and see if the catamount’s alive yet. He’s been pesterin’ round here ’most a month, and you better kill him good and dead.”

“Oh, he’s dead enough——”

“You go and look!”

Again the quiet laugh sounded.

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