over the upturned face he half emptied a
pocket flask of whisky into The Orphan's mouth and then fell to chafing
and rubbing with his calloused, dust-covered hands, well knowing the
nature of the wound and that it had only stunned.

Soon the eyelids quivered, fluttered and then flew back and the cruel eyes
stared unblinkingly into those of the man above him, who swore in sudden
joy. Then, weak as he was and only by the aid of an indomitable will, the
wounded man bounded to his feet and stood swaying slightly as one hand
reached out to the stage for support, the other instinctively leaping to
his Colt. He swayed still more as he slowly turned his head and searched
the plain for foes, the Colt half drawn from its holster.

As soon as he had gained his feet and while he was looking about him in
a dazed way the women began to talk again, excitedly, hysterically. They
gathered around this unshaven, blood-stained man and tried to thank him
for their lives, their voices broken with sobs. He listened, vaguely
conscious of what they were trying to say, until his brain cleared and
made him capable of thought. Then he ceased to sway and spread his feet
far apart to stand erect. His hand went to his head for the sombrero
which was not there, and he smiled as he recalled how he had lost it.

"Oh, how can we ever thank you!" cried the sheriff's eldest sister,
choking back a nervous sob. "How can we ever thank you for what you have
done! You saved our lives!" she cried, shuddering at the danger now
past. "You saved our lives! You saved our lives!" she repeated excitedly,
clasping and unclasping her hands in her agitation.

"How can we ever thank you, how can we!" cried the girl who had fainted
when the chase had begun. "It was splendid, splendid!" she cried, swaying
in her weakness. She was so white and bruised and frail that The Orphan
felt pity for her and started to say something, but had no chance. The
three women monopolized the conversation even to the exclusion of Bill,
who suddenly felt that his talking ability was only commonplace after all.

Blood trickled slowly down the outlaw's face as he smiled at them and
tried to calm them, and the younger sister, suddenly realizing the meaning
of what she had vaguely seen, turned to Bill with an imperative gesture.

"Bring me some water, driver, immediately," she commanded impatiently,
and Bill hurried around to the rear axle from which swung a small keg of
three gallons' capacit