Quietly, Quiggly stepped into the darkness as he stealthily approached and steeled himself for what was about to come. He never did see what tripped him up, for with a great crash he fell headlong into the creek with his face toward the bottom. Instantly, his face submerged, he became aware of a large body of water rushing over him. It was too fast, he thought, and a strong fear of drowning began to overpower him, but he dared not move his arms to force water out of his mouth. He wondered what had happened. A long way off in the darkness he heard a loud humming and his stomach rose up into his throat. I am drowning. He thought in terror, for now he heard voices above. In a loud, clear voice a man said: "Bring the rope in here and tie a knot in it. Whoever's in the creek better get out fast!" Quiggly did not move, but lay in the deep waters shivering, his senses numbed. And yet the rushing water was making it hard for him to think clearly. He saw a faint glimmer of light that seemed to move back and forth above the water. In the midst of his fear Quiggly realized that the stream was getting deeper and he could not move his arms. He would be drowned. Then came the tugging at his legs, tugging at the top of his head and the top of his arms. Yes, they were pulling him out. And when the rope was drawn tight he realized that it was not a stranger pulling, but a boy. It was Willie! "Oh, Willie!" he whispered as he broke into a sweat of gratitude. # CHAPTER XV # Down to the Cactus THE next morning the cowboys heard over their breakfast cups that Will had discovered a young girl near death in the hills the night before, and had carried her miles over rough roads until he finally made his way to the ranch. "A young 'un like that with a 'chinny' on her back should be put away," said one of the men. "Yep," said another. "What else could that kid have done with her?" "Well," said the man named Bill who had befriended the children when they started for home the day before, "I figure he was pretty close to 'she done it' himself. They were down to the cactus and it wasn't 'cause he was running from somebody that he went too far and got lost." "Aw, cut it out," said another of the men. "Don't say that no one found her. I can see it like that." "I suppose I could imagine a lot of things after last night," said Bill. "That kid wasn't looking for anybody when he found her and she wasn't looking for him. All she said when he found her was that he had no business finding her there, that he knew it was against the law. 'I've been running all night,' she said. 'You could just as well have left me out there.' "Well, we're used to that," said someone. "When we find someone on the hills we figure they are running from something or someone. If it was a stray dog or cow I'd take him in and give him a cup of coffee. Only people know something is wrong and I reckon the kid wanted to find somebody who would do that. She had a long way to walk back. Those people didn't find her till morning." "She might have passed out from the pain. She was beat. There wasn't much a body can do for something like that," said the foreman. "She could still have that leg," said another of the men. The child was brought to the ranch from the creek where she had stumbled, but there were no bones broken and it was obvious that she had not fainted from hunger or thirst. She lay on the bed in a room upstairs and was very quiet. The men looked at one another. There was no sign of fear. It was as if she was in a dream of pain, she looked so calm. They wondered who she was and why she was out there. But she did not talk much. "You're a darn good-looking kid. That's what I can't figure out," said one of the men, looking at her. "So what if I am," said the child, "the man I'm supposed to marry is going to be pretty good, too. If he isn't I think I'll go home to see about it." She went on to tell how she had stayed out in the hills and how she had seen two coyotes and a flock of prairie chickens and felt better. When the men gave her a cup of hot milk she drank it eagerly and smiled at them. She did not act strange. But she did not tell them anything about what had happened. She told them how many coyotes there were and how they looked and that the prairie chickens had seemed to like her. "They were running when they heard me coming," she said. "But they didn't stop. They had a nice fat cock chicken with them that gave me a look. I felt pretty good because I knew how much he wanted a big hen. I would have liked to talk to you but I felt just as if I was a person from another planet." "Can you talk about a kid like that and talk about anything else? 'Cause we've been up to your house, Ma and me, and there wasn't a soul in sight." "She was there," said the girl. "But I didn't want to tell you just who I was. I didn't have a good feeling about this place. It's a lonely kind of place. I felt sort of bad here. I was looking for my people." They wondered how she had learned to speak as if she were from another country. They knew that there were a few Indians left around but none within a few miles of the ranch house. "No one's coming back," she said quietly, looking into their eyes. "I could feel it all around me. Not at all a nice place. That's why I wouldn't talk to you. But I've never seen you and I'll remember you because you look as if you might do something." She closed her eyes and leaned back against the pillow and said, "I'd feel a lot better if I had a cup of coffee. If you'd put some on a clean cloth and bring it in here, I'd give you a piece of my quilting to hang on your bunk. And I'll look at it a long time. The more you look at it, the better I like it." The men watched her quietly for a while. "Some dame," said one of them. "Yes, a long way from home," said another. "Not so good on the country here." The men were talking about her while she slept. One of the men was wondering if the child would know the difference between him and the other man and he was wondering what difference there was between her and the other two cowboys who had been missing. It was hard to believe that she was a girl from another planet. The one called Bill wanted to take the girl home with him, but she said no, that she would wait until her aunt came for her. And after a while she got up, walked to the door, and looked back to say that she had had the strangest dream. She had never thought of cowboys before and how they looked. There was an old-fashioned cowboy hat on the table near her bed. It was made of fur. She leaned over and touched it. There was a long gray mustache on it. There was a nice smell from a long horsehair that smelled of tobacco. The old-fashioned hat had a smooth high crown with a wide rim and at the top of the brim there was an oil wick sticking out. The brim and rim were braided. She picked up the old hat and looked around. The men watched her carefully. She was dressed like a woman who went out riding. "I'll ride some of these days soon. You never can tell," she said, looking at the men. "I'll bet my aunt will like this hat. I'll like to put it on and feel some of that old fur around my neck. I don't think I'll ever wear any other kind of hat again. I'll take this one home with me. I can do things with it now." "What was the name of that man who took care of you and helped you all the time?" "He didn't use a name," said the girl. "It was me," said Bill, coming in from the barn where he had been putting the horse out. "I took care of her the best I could. She didn't have any place to go. A person can't just come and expect to find a place. People have to let them in." "Can she ride a horse?" asked one of the men. "I had her riding," said the foreman. "I rode her around in the hills and she could ride every bit as well as the men I saw her with. Why, I was watching her myself. I've seen children run away from me and you never heard such a racket." "I never saw such a sight," said the first man. "I thought you'd lost her sure. The girl was as good as gone