e camp had sunk to silence. The doctor was
stowed away in the wagon and Miss Gillespie had drawn the tent flaps
round the mystery of her retirement. David and Leff, too tired to
pitch theirs, were dropping to sleep by the fire, when the girl's
voice, low, but penetrating, roused them.

"Daddy John," it hissed in the tone children employ in their games of
hide-and-seek, "Daddy John, are you awake?"

The old man, who had been stretched before the fire, rose to a sitting
posture, wakeful and alert.

"Yes, Missy, what's the matter? Can't you sleep?"

"It's not that, but it's so hard to fix anything. There's no light."

Here it became evident to the watchers that Miss Gillespie's head was
thrust out through the tent opening, the canvas held together below her
chin. Against the pale background, it was like the vision of a
decapitated head hung on a white wall.

"What is it you want to fix?" queried the old man.

"My hair," she hissed back. "I want to put it up in papers, and I
can't see."

Then the secret of Daddy John's power was revealed. He who had so
remorselessly driven her to bed now showed no surprise or
disapprobation at her frivolity. It was as if her wish to beautify
herself received his recognition as an accepted vagary of human nature.

"Just wait a minute," he said, scrambling out of his blanket, "and I'll
get you a light."

The young men could not but look on all agape with curiosity to see
what the resourceful old man intended getting. Could the elaborately
complete Gillespie outfit include candles? Daddy John soon ended their
uncertainty. He drew from the fire a thick brand, brilliantly aflame,
and carried it to the tent. Miss Gillespie's immovable head eyed it
with some uneasiness.

"I've nothing to put it in," she objected, "and I can't hold it while
I'm doing up my hair."

"I will," said the old man. "Get in the tent now and get your papers
ready."

The head withdrew, its retirement to be immediately followed by her
voice slightly muffled by the intervening canvas:

"Now I'm ready."

Daddy John cautiously parted the opening, inserted the torch, and stood
outside, the canvas flaps carefully closed round his hand. With the
intrusion of the flaming brand the tent suddenly became a rosy
transparency. The young' girl's figure moved in the midst of the glow,
a shape of nebulous darkness, its outlines lost in the mist of
enfolding draperies.

Leff, softly lifting himself on his