n shocked at the sight of Macdonald. The terrible beating and
the loss of blood had sapped all the splendid, vital strength of the
Scotchman. His battered head was swathed in bandages, but the white face
was bruised and disfigured. The wounded man was weak as a kitten; only
the steady eyes told that he was still strong and unconquered.

"I want to talk business for a minute, Miss Sedgwick. Will you please
step out?" said Macdonald to his nurse.

She hesitated. "The doctor says--"

"Do as I say, please."

The nurse left them alone. Wally told the story of the evidence against
Elliot in four sentences. His chief caught the point at once.

After Selfridge had gone, the wounded man lay silent thinking out his
programme. Not for a moment did he doubt that he was going to live, and
his brain was already busy planning for the future. By some freak of
luck the cards had been stacked by destiny in his favor. He knew now
that in the violence of his anger against Elliot he had made a mistake.
To have killed his rival would have been fatal to the Kamatlah coal
claims, would have alienated his best friends, and would have prejudiced
hopelessly his chances with Sheba. Fate had been kind to him. He had
been in the wrong and it had put him in the right. By the same cut of
the cards young Elliot had been thrust down from an impregnable position
to one in which he was a discredited suspect. With all this evidence
to show that he had conspired against Macdonald, his report to the
Department would be labor lost.

Diane came into the sick-room stripping her gloves after the walk.
Macdonald smiled feebly at her and fired the first shot of his campaign
to defeat the enemy.

"Has Elliot been captured yet?" he asked weakly.

The keen eyes of his hostess fastened upon him. "Captured! What do you
mean? It was Gordon Elliot that brought you in and saved your life."

"Brought me from where?"

"From where he found you unconscious--at the ford."

"That's his story, is it?"

Macdonald shut his eyes wearily, but his incredulous voice had suggested
a world of innuendo.

The young woman stood with her gloves crushed tight in both hands. It
was her nature to be always a partisan. Without any reserve she was for
Gordon in this new fight upon him. What had Wally Selfridge been saying
to Macdonald? She longed mightily to ask the sick man some questions,
but the orders of the doctor were explicit. Did the mine-owner mean to
suggest that he had