He shouted in triumph, and then:  “By God, it’s Whistlin’ Dan Barry.”

“It is!” said Sam.  “Buck, they’s been devils workin’ tonight.  It sure took more’n one man to nail him this way.”

They fell to work frantically.  There was a perceptible pulse, the breathing was faint but steady, and a touch of colour came in the face.

“His arm will be all right in a few days,” said Mrs. Daniels, “but he may fall into a fever.  He’s turnin’ his head from side to side and talkin’.  What’s he sayin’, Buck?”

“He’s sayin’:  ‘Faster, Satan.’”

“That’s the hoss,” interpreted Sam.

“‘Hold us straight, Bart!’ That’s what he’s sayin’ now.”

“That’s the wolf.”

“‘An’ it’s all for Delilah!’ Who’s Delilah, Dad?”

“Maybe it’s some feller Dan knows.”

“Some feller?” repeated Mrs. Daniels with scorn.  “It’s some worthless girl who got Whistlin’ Dan into this trouble.”

Dan’s eyes opened but there was no understanding in them.

“Haines, I hate you worse’n hell!”

“It’s Lee Haines who done this!” cried Sam.

“If it is, I’ll cut out his heart!”

“It can’t be Haines,” broke in Mrs. Daniels.  “Old man Perkins, didn’t he tell us that Haines was the man that Whistlin’ Dan Barry had brought down into Elkhead?  How could Haines do this shootin’ while he was in jail?”

“Ma,” said Sam, “you watch Whistlin’ Dan.  Buck an’ me’ll take care of the hoss—­that black stallion.  He’s pretty near all gone, but he’s worth savin’.  What I don’t see is how he found his way to us.  It’s certain Dan didn’t guide him all the way.”

“How does the wind find its way?” said Buck.  “It was the wolf that brought Dan here, but standin’ here talkin’ won’t tell us how.  Let’s go out an’ fix up Satan.”

It was by no means an easy task.  As they approached the horse he heaved himself up, snorting, and stood with legs braced, and pendant head.  Even his eyes were glazed with exhaustion, but behind them it was easy to guess the dauntless anger which raged against these intruders.  Yet he would have been helpless against them.  It was Black Bart who interfered at this point.  He stood before them, his hair bristling and his teeth bared.

Sam suggested:  “Leave the door of the house open an’ let him hear Whistlin’ Dan’s voice.”

It was done.  At once the delirious voice of Dan stole out to them faintly.  The wolf turned his head to Satan with a plaintive whine, as if asking why the stallion remained there when that voice was audible.  Then he raced for the open door and disappeared into the house.

“Hurry in, Buck!” called Sam.  “Maybe the wolf’ll scare Ma!”

They ran inside and found Black Bart on the bed straddling the body of Whistling Dan, and growling at poor Mrs. Daniels, who crouched in a corner of the room.  It required patient work before he was convinced that they actually meant no harm to his master.