He wanted to know how many scrappy gents was
punchin' cows here; maybe them three up there figures that they might need
help. From what? What was they runnin' away from?"
"Hey!" broke in one of the cowpunchers, pointing with a dramatic fork
through the window.
It was a bright spot of gold that disappeared over the top of the nearest
hill; then it came into view again, the whole body of a yellow-haired
child, clothed in a wisp of white, and running steadily toward the north.
"The kid!" gasped the foreman. "Boys, grab her. No, you'd bust her; I know
how to handle her!"
He was gone through the door with gigantic leaps and shot over the crest of
the low hill. Then those in the cookhouse heard a small, tingling scream;
after it, came silence, and the tall foreman striding across the hill with
the child high in his arms. He came panting through the door and stood her
up on the end of the table, a small and fearless creature. She wore on her
feet the little moccasins which Dan himself had fashioned for her, but the
tawny hide was not on her--perhaps her mother had thrown the garment away.
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