s as Dad shouted at you just now, Jeff. You beat them
all--lone-handed. But you mustn't talk. Don't worry about them.
Guess they're not worth it. You've been shot up, Jeff, an' Dad an' I
we've just fixed you the best we know, an' the boys have gone right in
for a wagon, an' a doctor. The doc's got to get in from Moose Creek,
twenty miles away. That's what scares me."

The smile in the man's eyes had deepened.

"Don't--get--scared, Nan. I'm--not dying."

The girl thrilled at the assurance in the tired voice. But the thrill
passed as swiftly as it came. She knew what would follow when Jeff had
gathered sufficient strength.

Sure enough he went on presently:

"I remember everything--till--I dropped," he said haltingly. "What
happened--after--that? Y'see--I--heard--firing."

Nan glanced helplessly about her. If only her father would return with
the water! It might help her. She felt that she could not, could not
tell him the things he was demanding of her.

But again came his demand, and in the tone of it was a sound of peevish
impatience.

"What--happened--after--Nan? I need--to know."

"It all came of a rush. I can't just tell it right."

The man's eyes closed again. He remained silent so long that Nan's
apprehensions reawakened. She even forgot her panic at his persistence.

"Jeff! Jeff!"

Her call to him was almost a whisper. But the man heard. His eyes
opened at once.

"Yes, Nan?"

The girl laughed a little hysterically.

"I--I--was----"

"You thought I----"

"Yes, yes. But you are--better? Sure?"

The man's head turned deliberately toward her. There was astonishing
vigor in the movement.

"Ther's things broke inside me, Nan," he said, in a voice that was
growing stronger. "A rib, I guess. Maybe it's my shoulder. The
others--guess they're just nothing. Now tell me--the things I asked.
How did you happen to git around? Start that way."

A sense of relief helped the girl. He had given her an opportunity
which she seized upon.

"Oh, Jeff, it was just thanks to Evie. I guess she saved your life."

"How?"

The girl's enthusiasm received a set-back in his tone.

"She came right along over to us, and told us--everything--the moment
you'd gone. We followed you just as hard as the horses could lay foot
to the ground. Dad an' me, and six of the boys."

"What did Evie do?"

"She came along--too."

"Wher' is she?"

Nan made no answer. The question was repeate