ot, watch
long. He saw Nellie start, saw the color slowly recede from her face,
saw her hands clench tightly--as she began to read the letter. He turned
away, not caring to watch them during that sacred moment in which they
would read the line of hope that the great surgeon had written. He
looked--it seemed--for a long time down the Coyote trail, and when he
finally turned his head toward them he saw Ed Hazelton sitting erect in
his chair, apparently stunned by the news. But before him, close to him,
so close that he felt her breath in his face--her eyes wide with
delight, thankfulness--and perhaps something more--Nellie was kneeling.

"Oh, thank you, Mr. Hollis!" she said earnestly, her lips all a-quiver;
"Thank you, and God bless you!"

He tried to sit erect; tried to open his lips to tell her that he had
done only what any man would have done under the circumstances. But he
moved not, nor did he speak, for her arms had gone around his shoulders,
and her lips were suddenly pressed firmly and quickly to his. Then he
was released and she turned, crying:

"Come and thank him, Ed!"

But Ed had taken himself off--perhaps he did not care to allow anyone to
witness his joy.

Some time during the evening Hollis took his departure from the Hazelton
cabin. Ed had come back, silently taking Hollis's hand and gripping it
earnestly. And before Hollis had departed Ed had taken himself into the
house. Perhaps he divined that there were other's joys beside his.

That night before retiring Nellie stole softly into her brother's room
and kissed him lightly on the forehead. That same night also Hollis rode
up to the Circle Bar corral gate--singing. Norton and Potter were
sitting on the gallery, waiting for him. While Hollis was removing the
saddle from his pony Norton rose from his chair and smiled at Potter.

"Well," he said to the latter, "I'm goin' to bed." He moved a few steps
toward the door and then turned and looked back at Potter, who had also
risen. He laughed.

"Listen, Potter," he said. Then he quoted:

"Woman--she don't need no tooter
Be she skule ma'am or biscuit shooter."

He hesitated and looked again at Potter. "Why," said the latter,
puzzled, "that's from Ace's poem!"

"Sure," laughed Norton; "that's just what it is!"

CHAPTER XVII

THE RUSTLER

The following day Hollis rode to town over the Dry Bottom trail. Had he
followed a perfectly natural inclination he would have taken the Coyote