ad left
New York. Dennison had learned that he was going to Ridgely to try to
make up with old Rawson. Just then the paper from Ridgely was brought
in. Keith's eye fell on the head-lines of the first column, and he
almost fell from his chair as he read the words:

DOUBLE TRAGEDY--FATAL SHOOTING

F.C. WICKERSHAM SHOOTS MISS LOIS HUNTINGTON AND IS KILLED BY
SQUIRE RAWSON

The account of the shooting was in accordance with the heading, and was
followed by the story of the Wickersham-Rawson trouble.

Keith snatched out his watch, and the next second was dashing down the
street on his way to the station. A train was to start for the east in
five minutes. He caught it as it ran out of the station, and swung
himself up to the rear platform.

Curiously enough, in his confused thoughts of Lois Huntington and what
she had meant to him was mingled the constant recollection of old Tim
Gilsey and his lumbering stage running through the pass.

It was late in the evening when he reached Ridgely; but he hastened at
once to Dr. Balsam's office. The moon was shining, and it brought back
to him the evenings on the verandah at Gates's so long ago. But it
seemed to him that it was Lois Huntington who had been there among the
pillows; that it was Lois Huntington who had always been there in his
memory. He wondered if she would be as she was then, as she lay dead.
And once or twice he wondered if he could be losing his wits; then he
gripped himself and cleared his mind.

In ten minutes he was in Dr. Balsam's office. The Doctor greeted him
with more coldness than he had ever shown him. Keith felt his suspicion.

"Where is Lois--Miss Lois Huntington? Is she--?" He could not frame the
question.

"She is doing very well."

Keith's heart gave a bound of hope. The blood surged back and forth in
his veins. Life seemed to revive for him.

"Is she alive? Will she live?" he faltered.

"Yes. Who says she will not?" demanded the Doctor, testily.

"The paper--the despatch."

"No thanks to you that she does!" He faced Keith, and suddenly flamed
out: "I want to tell you that I think you have acted like a
damned rascal!"

Keith's jaw dropped, and he actually staggered with amazement. "What!
What do you mean? I do not understand!"

"You are not a bit better than that dog that you turned her over to, who
got his deserts yesterday."

"But I do not understand!" gasped Keith, white and hot.

"Then I will tell you. You led th