e to who make stern demands
upon their vitality.

The doctor made a few more remarks about the treatment of his patient.
He had carefully laid on the table the little tablets of medicine, the
bottle containing an antiseptic, the cotton and gauze that must be
used to renew the dressing. Then he went out, breathing deeply of the
sharp and aromatic air, and a moment later he and Stefan were gone,
the latter promising to return at once, with a few needed supplies
from the store. Madge was alone now with Hugo, who was again sleeping
quietly. She read over the doctor's directions carefully while she
stood by the little window, as the lamp had been extinguished.

A few minutes later she decided to place the paper in the little desk
again, for safe-keeping. Without the slightest curiosity her eyes fell
again upon some of the writing on loose sheets. But presently she was
staring at it hard as a strong conviction made its way into her brain.
After this she went to the other shelf where some books had been
placed and opened one of them, and then another. On the flyleaf was
written, in bold characters, "Hugo Ennis." The writing was exactly the
same as that which appeared on the scattered leaves, for she compared
them carefully.

"There can be no doubt--he never wrote those letters," she decided.
"But--but I knew very well he couldn't have written them. It--it isn't
like him."

The idea came again that he could have obtained some one to write for
him, but it was immediately cast aside. The man would not engage in
dirty work himself--far less would he get others to do it for him.
She--she had abused and insulted him--called him a liar, as far as she
could remember, and again her face felt hot and burning.

Once more she sat down by the bunk, after she had given Maigan a big
feed of oats, with a small remnant of the bacon grease. She felt
humbled now, as if her accusations constituted some unforgivable,
despicable sin. This man had never intended to do her the slightest
harm. He really never knew that she was coming. And through her stupid
clumsiness his life was now ebbing. The doctor's long words sounded
dreadfully in her ears: general sepsis, blood poisoning, a system
overwhelmed by the toxines of virulent microbes; they reverberated in
her ears like so many sentences of death. Was there any hope that this
outflowing life would ever turn in its course and return like an
incoming tide? Would she again see him able to lift up