ard on the saddle under his knee.

Sore and bruised as he was, sorer that he would be tomorrow, Morgan
wanted to get up as soon as the long rough cut on his cheek had been
comfortably patched with adhesive tape. He asked the rancher if he would
oblige him with a horse to go to Ascalon, where his trunk containing his
much-needed wardrobe was still in the baggage-room at the depot.

"You couldn't ride to Ascalon this morning, son," the rancher told him,
severely kind.

"You'll do if you can make it in a week," the young man added his
opinion cheerfully.

"Yes, and then some, the way it looks to me," the elder declared.

Morgan started as if to spring from the low couch where they had laid
him when they carried him in, dusty and bloody, fearful and repulsive
sight of maimed flesh and torn clothing that he was.

"I can't stay a week--I can't wait a day! They'll be gone, man!" he
said.

"Maybe they will, son," the rancher agreed, gently pushing him back;
"maybe. But they'll leave tracks."

"Yes, by God! they'll leave tracks!" Morgan muttered.

"Don't you think I'd better send my boy over to town for the doctor?"
the rancher asked.

"Not unless you're uneasy about me."

"No, your head's all right and your bones are whole. You'll heal up, but
it'll take some time."

Morgan said he felt that more had been done for him already than any
number of doctors could have accomplished, for the service had been one
of humanity, with no thought of reward. They would let the doctor stay
in Ascalon, and Morgan would go to him if he felt the need coming on.
The rancher disclaimed credit for a service such as one man owed another
the world over, he said. But it was plain that he was touched by the
outspoken gratitude of this wreckage of humanity that had come halting
in bonds to his door.

"I'm a stranger to this country," Morgan explained, "I arrived in
Ascalon yesterday--" pausing to ponder it, thinking it must have been
longer than a day ago--"yesterday"--with conviction, "a little after
noon. Morgan is my name. I came here to settle on land."

"You're the man that took the new marshal's gun away from him," the
rancher said, nodding slowly. "My daughter knew you the minute she saw
you--she was over there yesterday after the mail."

Morgan's heart jumped. He looked about the room for her, but she and her
mother had withdrawn.

"I guess I made a mistake when I mixed up with him," Morgan said, as if
he excused himself to