rgio could no longer see, and his henchman
flushed like a girl at his "break"; though, as a horse-dealer, he had in
his time listened without shame to wilder, angrier reproaches than most
men living.

She glanced at him, saw his confusion, forgave and understood him.

"It was not the horseshoe, it was not the Gipsy," she returned. "They
did not set it going. It would not have happened but for one man."

"Yes, it's Marchand, right enough," answered Jowett, "but we'll get him
yet. We'll get him with the branding-iron hot."

"That will not put things right if--" she paused, then with a great
effort she added: "Does the doctor think he will get it back and that--"

She stopped suddenly in an agitation he did not care to see and he
turned away his head.

"Doctor doesn't know," he answered. "There's got to be an expert. It'll
take time before he gets here, but--" he could not help but say it,
seeing how great her distress was--"but it's going to come back. I've
seen cases--I saw one down on the Border"--how easily he lied!--"just
like his. It was blasting that done it--the shock. But the sight come
back all right, and quick too--like as I've seen a paralizite get up
all at once and walk as though he'd never been locoed. Why, God
Almighty don't let men like Ingolby be done like that by reptiles same's
Marchand."

"You believe in God Almighty?" she said half-wonderingly, yet with
gratitude in her tone. "You understand about God?"

"I've seen too many things not to try and deal fair with Him and not try
to cheat Him," he answered. "I see things lots of times that wasn't ever
born on the prairie or in any house. I've seen--I've seen enough," he
said abruptly, and stopped.

"What have you seen?" she asked eagerly. "Was it good or bad?"

"Both," he answered quickly. "I was stalked once--stalked I was by night
and often in the open day, by some sickly, loathsome thing, that even
made me fight it with my hands--a thing I couldn't see. I used to fire
buckshot at it, enough to kill an army, till I near went mad. I was
really and truly getting loony. Then I took to prayin' to the best woman
I ever knowed. I never had a mother, but she looked after me--my sister,
Sara, it was. She brought me up, and then died and left me without
anything to hang on to. I didn't know all I'd lost till she was gone.
But I guess she knew what I thought of her; for she come back--after I'd
prayed till I couldn't see. She come back into my room one