our name but in case
anybody might be askin' me I wouldn't care to know where you come from."
He smiled. "I'm Dan Barry."

It had to be a left-handed shake on the part of Vic, a thing of which
he often thought in the days that followed, but now he sent his memory
hunting.

"Seems like I've heard your name before," he murmured. "I dunno where.
Were you ever around Alder, Barry?"

"No." His manner suggested that the topic might as well be closed. He
reached over and dropped his hand lightly on the forehead of Vic. A
tingling current flowed from it into the brain of the wounded man. "Your
blood's still a bit hot," he added. "Lie quiet and don't even think.
You're safe here. They ain't a thing goin' to get at you. Not a thing.
You'll stay till you get ready to leave. S'long. I'll see that you get
something to eat."

He went out with that unusual, padding step which Vic had noticed before
and closed the door softly behind him. In spite of that barrier Gregg
could hear the noises from the next room quite clearly, as some one
brought in wood and dropped it on a stone hearth, rattling. He fell
into a pleasant doze, just stretching his body now and then to enjoy the
coolness of the sheets, the delicious sense of being cared for and the
returning strength in his muscles. Through that haze he heard voices,
presently, which called him back to wakefulness.

"That ought to be good for him. Take it in, Kate."

"I shall. Dan, what has Joan done?"

"She went in there. I told her to leave him alone."

"But she says he asked her to come in--said he would take the blame."

"I told her not to go."

"Poor baby! She's outside, now, weeping her eyes out on Bart's shoulder
and he's trying to comfort her."

It was purer English than Vic was accustomed to hear even from his
schoolmistress, but more than the words, the voice surprised him, the
low, controlled voice of a woman of gentle blood. He turned his head and
looked out the window, baffled. Far above, shooting out of sight,
went the slope of a mountain, a cliff shining in the slant sun of the
afternoon here, a tumbled slide of rocks and debris there, and over the
shoulder of this mountain he saw white-headed monsters stepping back in
range beyond range. Why should a girl of refinement choose the isolation
of such a place as this for her home? It was not the only strange thing
about this household, however, and he would dismiss conjectures until he
was once more on his feet.