The agent waited for them, and when he swung over in one stirrup to look at the girl it was the animal ferocity in his face, and not his words, that aroused Philip.
"She's coming to," he said, straining to keep the tremble out of his voice.

"I don't believe she's much hurt.

You take this canteen.

I'm going ahead." He gave Philip the water and leaned over again to gaze into the girl's face.
"I don't believe she's much hurt," he repeated in a hoarse, dry whisper.

"You can leave her at the water hole just beyond that hill off there--and then you can follow me." Philip clutched the girl tighter to him as the agent rode off.