d violently that it
knocked a little cloud of dust out of his wagon, laid the whip to his
team, and drove off with almost as grand a flourish as he used to
execute when setting out from Comanche on the stage.

Mrs. Boyle left her son's side, her husband relieving her, to see that
Agnes was supplied with everything necessary. She had pressed Agnes to
remain with her--which was well enough in accord with the girl's own
inclination--and help her care for her "little boy," as she called him
with fond tenderness.

"Isn't she sweet?" whispered Agnes, as Mrs. Boyle went to her own tent
to fetch something which she insisted Agnes must have. "She is so gentle
and good to be the mother of such a wolf!"

"But what did she think about her precious son going to turn the whole
United States out after you because you wouldn't help him pull the plank
out from under an unworthy friend?"

"I didn't tell her that," said Agnes, shaking her head. "I told the
Governor as we came over, and she isn't to know that part of it."

Their tents made quite a little village, and the scene presented
considerable quiet activity, for the Governor had brought a man over
from Comanche to serve the camp with fuel and water and turn a hand at
preparing the food. Agnes was cook-in-extraordinary to the patient and
the doctor. She and Slavens took their supper together that night,
sitting beside the fire.

There they talked of the case, and the prospect of the fee, and of the
future which they were going to fix up together between them, as
confidently as young things half their age. With the promised fee, life
would be one way; without it another. But everything was white enamel
and brass knobs at the poorest, for there was confidence to give hope;
strength and love to lend it color.

Striking the fire with a stick until the sparks rose like quail out of
the grass, Dr. Slavens vowed solemnly that he would win that fee or take
in his shingle--which, of course, was a figurative shingle only at that
time--and Agnes pledged herself to stand by and help him do it as
faithfully as if they were already in the future and bound to sustain
each other's hands in the bitter and the sweet of life.

"It would mean a better automobile," said he.

"And a better surgery, and a nicer chair for the consulting-room," she
added, dreaming with wide-open eyes upon the fire.

"And a better home, with more comfort in it for you."

"Oh, as for that!" said she.

"I've got