hen
covered her face, and burst out crying. An ungentle grasp descended upon
her shoulder. Her uncle, standing tall and angry behind her, thrust her
from the room.

"Thar now!" he said with carefully repressed violence, lest his tones
should disturb the sick man. "You've raised up a pretty interruption with
my patient. I 'lowed I could trust you, Jude. What in the world you
fussin' with Creed about? For God's sake, did you see him? You've
nigh-about killed him, I reckon. Didn't I tell you not to name anything
to him to werry him?"

"He says he's married Huldy," said Judith in a strangled voice.

"Say! He'd say anything--like he is now," retorted her uncle,
exasperated. "An' he'd shore say anything on earth that was put in his
mouth. I don't care if he's married forty Huldy's; what I want is for him
to get well. Lord, I do wish I had Nancy here, and not one of these fool
young gals with their courtin' business and their gettin' jealous and
having to have a rippit with a sick man that don't know what he's talkin'
about," he went on savagely.

But high-spirited Judith paid no attention to the cutting arraignment.

"Do you think that's true--oh, Uncle Jep, do you reckon he didn't mean
it?" was all she said.

"I don't see as it makes any differ," retorted her uncle, testily.
"Marryin' Huldy Spiller ain't no hangin' matter--but hit'll cost that boy
his life ef you fuss with him and git him excited and all worked up."

Judith turned and felt her way blindly up the steep little stair to her
own room. That night she prayed, not in a formulated fashion, but to some
vague, over-brooding goodness that she hoped would save her from cruelty
to him she loved.

The next morning Creed was plainly set back in his progress toward sound
rationality, though there seemed little physical change. He recognised no
one, and was much as he had been on those first days. While this
condition of affairs held, and it lasted nearly a week, there was no need
for Jephthah to repeat his caution. But one morning when Judith went in
to relieve her uncle, Creed smiled at her again with eyes that knew.

As soon as they were alone together, he asked her to come and sit by him,
and told her with tolerable clearness how he had followed Blatch
Turrentine onto the train at Garyville, how he had fainted there, and
only recovered consciousness when they were halfway to the next station.

"I was too bad off for them to leave me anywhere, and they carried