well grown and muscular, he was
still only a boy.

"Yes, Miss Diane; I do want to see him. I want to borrow a couple of
horses from him, and to ask his advice."

Archie's recent heat and hysteria had soothed under the influence of
the girl's presence. He now stood bowed and dejected; he appeared to
have suddenly grown old. Jake watched the scene with a sneer on his
brutal face, but remained silent now that Diane was present.

"I will rouse him myself," she said quietly, moving toward the door.
"Yes, you shall see him, Archie. I heard what you said just now, and
I'll tell him. But----" She broke off, hesitating. Then she came back
to him. "Is--is your father dead, or--only wounded?"

The boy's head dropped forward, and two great tears rolled slowly down
his cheeks. Diane turned away, and a far-off look came into her steady
brown eyes. There was a silence for a moment, then a deep,
heart-broken sob came from the lad at her side. She flashed one hard
glance in Jake's direction and turned to her companion, gently
gripping his arm in a manner that expressed a world of womanly
sympathy. Her touch, her quiet, strong helpfulness, did more for him
than any formal words of condolence could have done. He lifted his
head and dashed the tears from his face; and the girl smiled
encouragement upon him.

"Wait here," she said; "I will go and fetch father."

She slipped away, leaving the two men alone. And when she had gone,
the foreman's raucous voice sounded harshly on the still air.

"Say, you ain't smart, neither. We got one of your kidney around here
now. Kind o' reckons to fix the old man through the girl. Most
weak-kneed fellers gamble a pile on petticoats. Wal, I guess you're
right out. Marbolt ain't easy that way. You'll be sorry you fetched
him from his bed, or I don't know him."

Archie made no reply. Nor was any more talk possible, for at that
moment there came the steady tap, tap, of the blind man's stick down
the passage, and the two men faced the door expectantly. The rancher
shuffled out on to the verandah. Diane was at his side, and led him
straight over to young Orr. The old man's head was poised alertly for
a second; then he turned swiftly in the foreman's direction.

"Hah! that you, Jake?" He nodded as he spoke, and then turned back to
the other. The blind man's instinct seemed something more than human.

"Eh? Your father murdered, boy?" Marbolt questioned, without the least
softening of tone. "Murdered?