a'am, if you'd come and stand by his grave, he'd wake up _now_ and
welcome you! You see, I am a married man my own self, and Tom Osby,
he's been married copious; and Tom and me, we both allowed just like I
said. We knew the diseased would have done that cheerful--if he had
any sort of chanct."

The girl sprang up. "He's not dead!" she cried, and her eyes blazed,
her natural courage refusing to yield. "I'll not believe it!"

"I didn't ast you to, ma'am," said Curly. "He ain't plumb dead; he's
just threatened. Oh, say, you've kind of got me rattled, you see.
I've got a missage--I mean a missive--anyways a letter, from him. I
had it in my pants pocket all the time, and thought it was in my coat.
Them was the last words he wrote."

She tore the letter from his hand, and her eyes caught every word of it
at the first glance.

"This is not his letter!" she exclaimed. "He never wrote it! It's not
in his hand!"

"Ma'am," said Curly, virtuously grieved, "how could you! I didn't
_say_ he wrote it. He had to have a amanyensis, of course,--him
a-layin' there all shot up. Nobody _said_ it was his handwriting It
_ain't_ his handwritin'. It's his _heart_writin'. They sign it with
their _hearts_, ma'am! Now I tell you that for the truth, and you can
gamble on _that_, anyways.

"I think I had better go away. I'm hungry, anyhow," he added, turning
away.

"Soon!" she said, stretching out her hand. "Wait!" her other hand
trembled as she devoured the pages of the message to the queen. Her
cheeks flushed.

"Oh, _read_ it, ma'am!" said Curly, querulously. "Read it and get
sorry. If you can read that there letter from Dan Anderson--signed
with his heart--and not hit the trail for his bedside, then I've had a
almighty long ride for nothing."

CHAPTER XXVI

THE GIRL AT HEART'S DESIRE

_The Story of a Surprise, a Success, and Something Else Very Much
Better_

As Curly stumped away, his spurs clinking on the gallery floor, he
encountered Mr. Ellsworth, who held out his hand in recognition.

"I just heard some one was down from the town," he began. "How are you,
and what's the news?"

"Mighty bad," said Curly, "mighty bad." Then to himself: "O Lord! I'm
in for it again, and worse. I'd a heap rather lie to a woman than a
man--it seems more natural."

"Bring any word down with you from up there?" asked Ellsworth. Curly
nodded. "I brung a letter," said he.

"That so? What's it about?"

"Well, si