oris, who patted her head
and smiled. "We was--stockin' up our ranch," Pete explained almost
apologetically. "Ruth and me is pardners."

Doris gazed at Pete, her gray eyes warm with a peculiar light. "It's
awfully nice of you to amuse Ruth."

"Amuse her! My Gosh! Miss Gray, she's doin' the amusin'! When we're
visitin' like this, I plumb forgit--everything."

"Here's a letter for you," said Doris. "I thought that perhaps you
might want to have it as soon as possible."

"Thanks, Miss Gray. I reckon it's from Jim Bailey. I--" Pete tore off
the end of the envelope with trembling fingers. Little Ruth watched
him curiously. Doris had turned away and was looking out across the
city. A tiny hand tugged at her sleeve. "Make Pete play wif me," said
Ruth. "My cow's all broke."

Pete glanced up, slowly slid the unread letter back into the envelope
and tucked it into his shirt. "You bet we'll find that cow if we have
to comb every draw on the ranch! Hello, pardner! Here's her ole head.
She was sure enough investigatin' that there haystack."

Doris turned away. There was a tense throbbing in her throat as she
moved back to the doorway. Despite herself she glanced back for an
instant. The dark head and the golden head were together over the
wonderful puzzle picture. Just why Pete should look up then could
hardly be explained by either himself or Doris. He waved his hand
boyishly. Doris turned and walked rapidly down the hallway. Her
emotion irritated her. Why should she feel so absolutely silly and
sentimental because a patient, who really meant nothing to her aside
from her profession, should choose to play puzzle picture with a
crippled child, that he might forget for a while his very identity and
those terrible happenings? Had he not said so? And yet he had put
aside the letter that might mean much to him, that he might make Little
Ruth forget her pain in searching for a dismembered pasteboard cow.

Doris glanced in as she passed Pete's room. Two men were standing
there, expressing in their impatient attitudes that they had expected
to find some one in the room. She knew who they were--men from the
police station--for she had seen them before.

"You were looking for Mr. Annersley?" she asked.

"Yes, mam. We got a little business--"

"He's out on the veranda, playing puzzle picture with a little girl
patient."

"Well, we got a puzzle picture for him--" began one of the men, but
Doris, her