g on a couch in a corner of the office, turned his
face and bravely smiled. "I'm glad," he weakly replied. "I was afraid
they would call me to the stand again."

Kneeling at his side, she studied his face with anxious care. "Are you
worse, daddy? Has your pain increased?"

"Yes, Nellie, it is worse. I fear I am to be very ill."

She took his hand in hers, a pang of remorseful pity wrenching her
heart. "Don't say that, daddy," she gently chided. "Keep your good
courage." She looked up at the ranger, who stood near with troubled
brow. "Mr. Hanscom, will you please find Dr. Carmody and tell him my
father needs him?"

With a quick word of assurance he hurried away, and the girl, bending to
the care of her stepfather, suffered from a full realization of the fact
that he had been brought to this condition by the strength of his
devotion to her. "For my sake he exiled himself, for me he has been
assaulted, wounded, arrested"--and, looking down upon him in the light
of her recovered sense of values, she became very humble.

"Dear old daddy," she wailed, "it's all my fault. What can I do to make
amends? You've sacrificed so much for me."

Sick as he was, the old man did his best to comfort her, but she was
still sitting on the floor, with head bowed in troubled thought, when
Hanscom and Carmody hurried in. Her relief, made manifest by the instant
movement with which she gave way to him, was almost childlike.

"Oh, Doctor, I'm glad to see you!" she cried out. "I was afraid your
legal duties might keep you."

"Luckily my legal duties are over," he replied, quickly, "and I'm glad
of it. I hope I never'll have another such case."

A brief examination convinced him that the sick man should be put to
bed, and he suggested the Palace Hotel, which stood but a few doors
away.

"He can't travel to-day," he added, knowing that Helen had planned to
take the train.

Kauffman insisted on going. "I can walk," he said, firmly. "I feel a
little dizzy, but I'll be all right in the coach."

Hanscom was at his side, supporting him. "You'd better wait a day," he
said, gently; and Helen understood and sided with him.

Together they helped the sick man to the door and into the doctor's car,
and in a few minutes Kauffman was stretched upon a good bed in a
pleasant room. With a deep sigh of relief he laid his head upon the soft
pillow.

"I am glad not to entrain to-day," he said. "To-morrow will be better
for us all."

"Never mind ab