“What was the matter with him!” ejaculated Porter, “Was he sick or dying?”

“No,” said Rhoda mechanically; “I guess he saw that it was useless.”

“And he dropped you in the desert without water or food or horse!” cried DeWitt.  “Oh, that Apache cur!”

“No!  No!” exclaimed Rhoda.  “He dropped me not far from here.  We saw the camp and he sent me to it.”

The men looked at each other incredulously.  Jack Newman’s face was puzzled.  He knew Kut-le and it was hard to believe that he would give up what he already had won.  DeWitt spoke excitedly.

“Then he’s still within our reach!  Hurry up, friends!”

Rhoda turned swiftly to the gaunt-faced man.  Then she spoke very distinctly, with that in her deep gray eyes that stirred each listener with a vague sense of loss and yearning.

“I don’t want Kut-le harmed!  I shan’t tell you anything that will help you locate him.  He did me no harm.  On the contrary, he made me a well woman, physically and mentally.  If I can forgive his effrontery in stealing me, surely you all will grant me this favor to top all that you have done for me.”

Porter’s under lip protruded with the old obstinate look.

“That fellow’s got to be made an example of, Miss Rhoda,” he said.  “No white that’s a man can stand for what he’s done.  He’s bound to be hunted down, you know.  If we don’t, others will!”

Rhoda turned impatiently to DeWitt.

“John, after all our talk, you must understand!  You know what good Kut-le has done me and how big it was of him to let me go.  Make them promise to let him alone!”

But there was no answering look of understanding in DeWitt’s worn face.

“Rhoda, you haven’t any idea what you’re asking!  It isn’t a question of forgiveness!  You don’t get the point of view that you ought!  Why, the whole country is worked up over this thing!  The newspapers are full of it.  Just as Porter says, the Apache’s got to be made an example of.  We will hunt him down, if it takes a year!”

So far Jack Newman had said nothing.  Rhoda looked at him as if he were her last hope.

“Oh, Jack!” she cried.  “He was your friend, your dearest friend!  And he sent me back!  Why, you never would have got me if he hadn’t voluntarily let me go!  He is wonderful on the trail!”

“So we found!” said DeWitt grimly.

But Rhoda was watching Jack.

“Rhoda,” Jack said at last, “I know how you feel.  I know what a bully chap Kut-le is.  This just about does me up.  But what he’s done can’t be let go.  We’ve got to punish him!”

“‘Punish him!’” repeated Rhoda.  “Just what do you mean by that?”

“We mean,” answered DeWitt, “that when we find him, I’ll shoot him!”

“No!” cried Rhoda.  “No!  Why he sent me back!”

The three men looked at Rhoda uncomfortably and at each other wonderingly.  A woman’s magnanimity is never to be understood by a man!