The Sheriff's Son
"We must be going," she told him. "If you don't get over the pass before morning, Tighe might catch you."
He nodded agreement. "You 're right, but I 've got to look out for young Beaudry. Do you know where he is?"
"He is waiting outside," the girl said stiffly. "Take him away with you. I 'll not be responsible for him if he comes back. We don't like spies here."
They found Roy lying against the wall of the hut, his white face shining in the moonlight.
"What's the matter with you?" demanded Miss Rutherford sharply.
"I'm all right." Roy managed to rise and lean against the jacal. "I see you made it. Mr. Dingwell, my name is Beaudry."
"Glad to know you." The cattleman's strong hand gripped his limp one. "Yore father was the gamest man I ever knew and one of my best friends."
The keen eyes of Beulah had been fastened on Roy. She recalled what she had heard the man say in the orchard. In her direct fashion she flung a question at the young man.
"Are you wounded? Did that man hit you when he fired?"
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