Her Prairie Knight
glowed warningly, shielding her face as well as she could from the smoke, she kept on until she was close upon the fighters. Dick and Sir Redmond were working side by side, the sacks they held rising and falling with the regularity of a machine for minutes at a time. A group of strange horsemen galloped up from the way she had come, followed by a wagon of water-barrels, careering recklessly over the uneven ground. The horsemen stopped just inside the burned rim, the horses sidestepping gingerly upon the hot turf.
"I guess you want some help here. Where shall we start in?" Beatrice recognized the voice. It was Keith Cameron.
"Sure, we do!" Dick answered, gratefully."Start in any old place."
"I'm not sure we want your help," spoke the angry voice of Sir Redmond. "I take it you've already done a devilish sight too much."
"What do you mean by that?" Keith demanded; and then, by the silence, it seemed that every one knew. Beatrice caught her breath. Was this one of the ways Dick meant that Keith could fight?
"Climb down, boys, and get busy," Keith called to his men, after a few breaths. "This is for Dick.
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