later he opened his eyes in utter darkness with a thin,
sweet voice still ringing in his ears. He could not place himself until
he turned his head and saw a meager, broken, rectangular line of light
which was the door, and immediately afterwards the voice cried: "Oh,
Daddy Dan! And what did the wolf do then?"

"I'm comin' to that, Joan, but don't you talk about wolves so loud or
old Black Bart'll think you're talkin' about him. See him lookin' at you
now?"

"But please go on. I won't say one little word."

The man's voice began again, softly, so that not a word was audible to
Gregg; he heard the crackle of burning logs upon the hearth; saw the
rectangle of light flicker; caught a faint scent of wood smoke, and then
he slept once more.

Chapter IX. The Long Arm Of The Law

From the first the wound healed rapidly, for Vic's blood was perfectly
pure, the mountain air a tonic which strengthened him, and his food and
care of the best. The high-powered rifle bullet whipped cleanly through
his shoulder, breaking no bone and tearing no ligament, and the flesh
closed swiftly. Even Vic's mind carried no burden to oppress him in care
for the future or regret for the past, for if he occasionally remembered
the limp body of Hansen on the floor of Captain Lorrimer's saloon he
could shrug the picture into oblivion. It had been fair fight, man to
man, with all the odds in favor of Blondy, who had been allowed to pull
his gun first. If Vic thought about the future at all, it was with a
blind confidence that some time and in some unrevealed way he would get
back to Alder and marry Betty Neal. In the meantime, as the days of the
spring went mildly by, he was up and about and very soon there was only
a little stiffness in his right arm to remind him of Pete Glass and the
dusty roan.

He spent most of his time close to the cabin, for though he had
forgotten the world there was no decisive proof that the world would
forget him half so easily; that was not the way of the sheriff. He had
been known to spend years in the hunt for a single misdoer and Vic
had no care to wander out where he might be seen. Besides, it was very
pleasant about the cabin. The house itself was built solidly, roomily,
out of logs hewn on the timbered slopes above and dragged down to this
little plateau. Three mountains, to the north, south and west, rolled
back and up, cutting away the sunlight in the early afternoon, but at
this point the quick slopes put o