Brand Blotters - Page 18/180

"Let me look at your ankle."

"No."

"I say yes. You've hurt it seriously."

"That is my business, I think," she told him with cold finality.

"I'm going to make it mine. Think I don't know you, proud as Lucifer when

you get set. You'll lame yourself for life if you're not careful."

"I don't care to discuss it."

"Fiddlesticks! If you've got anything against me we'll hear what it is

afterward. Right now we'll give first aid to the injured. Sit down here."

She had not meant to give way, but she did. Perhaps it was because of the

faintness that stole over her, or because the pain was sharper than she

could well endure. She found herself seated on the rock shelf, letting him

cut the lace out of her shoe and slip it off. Ever so gently he worked,

but he could tell by the catches of her breath that it was not pleasant to

endure. From his neck he untied the silk kerchief and wrapped it tightly

around the ankle.

"That will have to do till I get you home."

"I'll not trouble you, sir. If you'll stop and tell my father that is all

I'll ask."

"Different here," he retorted cheerfully. "Just so as to avoid any

argument, I'll announce right now that Jack Flatray is going to see you

home. It's his say-so."

She rose. None knew better than she that he was a dominating man when he

chose to be. She herself carried in her slim body a spirit capable of

passion and of obstinacy, but to-night she had not the will to force the

fighting.

Setting her teeth, she took a step or two forward, her hand against the

rock wall to help bear the weight. With narrowed eyes, he watched her

closely, noting the catches of pain that shot through her breathing. Half

way up the boulder bed he interposed brusquely.

"This is plumb foolishness, girl. You've got no business putting your

weight on that foot, and you're not going to do it."

He slipped his arm around her waist in such a way as to support her all he

could. With a quick turn of the body she tried to escape.

"No use. I'm going through with this, 'Lissie. Someone has been lying to

you about me, and just now you hate the ground I walk on. Good enough.

That's got nothing to do with this. You're a woman that needs help, and

any old time J. F. meets up with such a one he's on the job. You don't owe

me 'Thank you,' but you've got to stand for me till you reach the house."