n," and ran to help.

The horror, the anguish, the regret of that hour are best left untold. The
number of disks gone from the bottle under the pillow gave the doctor his
clue. One final effort must have been made by the desperate invalid to
secure for himself the drink which would wash them down without the
dreaded coughing spell.

The old doctor, who loved them both, and Luther Hansen also, witnessed
Elizabeth's despair, and listened to her story. As Luther had said a few
weeks before, he was a safe person, and her secret remained a secret.
Luther led her away into the night and sat silently by while her grief
spent itself in tears; it was a necessary stage. When John and the men
came, he led her back, and himself met them at the gate to explain.

The morning and the evening were the first day; the comings and goings of
the inquisitive and the sympathetic were alike unremarked by Elizabeth.
Only for that first hour did her grief run to tears; it was beyond tears.
At the coroner's inquest she answered penetrating questions as if they
related to the affairs of others, and when at last the weary body, whose
spirit had been strong enough to lay it aside, had been buried on the bare
hillside, the neighbours and those who came to the funeral from curiosity
agreed that Elizabeth Hunter could stand anything. So little evidence of
emotion had she given that Mrs. Crane remarked to Mrs. Farnshaw as they
rode home together:

"I declare, Lizzie's th' coolest hand I ever met. She couldn't 'a' liked
Mr. Noland very much. She wasn't near as broke up as Mr. Hunter was, an'
when I asked her if she wouldn't feel kind of spooky in that house after
such a thing, she just looked at me, funny-like, an' says 'Why?' an'
didn't seem t' care a bit."

Doctor Morgan drove home from the graveyard with the family.

"I suppose you know, Hunter, that there's a will," he said before he
helped Elizabeth into the buggy.

"No! Who's got it?" John exclaimed.

"He gave it to me, with a note asking me not to read it till after he was
buried, if he should die."

John and Elizabeth followed the doctor's rig home across the long stretch
of prairie.

"Did you know that Hugh left a will?" John Hunter asked Elizabeth, after
driving a long time in silence.

"Luther told me last night. I didn't think much about it and I forgot to
tell you," Elizabeth returned briefly, and fell back into her own sad
thoughts again.

John Hunter looked at his wife in s