vering
with a sense of guilt. "The poor old cuss! Probably he was sick the very
minute I was bullyragging him."

The local doctor had gone down the valley on a serious case, and would
not be back till morning, his wife said, thereupon Roy wired to
Claywall, the county-seat, for another physician. He also secured the
aid of Mrs. James, the landlady of the Palace Hotel, and hastened back
to the relief of the girl, whom he found walking the floor of the little
kitchen, tremulous with dread.

"I'm afraid he's dying," she said. "His teeth are set and he's
unconscious."

Without knowing what to say in way of comfort, the herder passed on into
the little office, where the postmaster lay on a low couch with face
upturned, in rigid, inflexible pose, his hands clenched, his mouth
foam-lined. Roy, unused to sickness and death, experienced both pity and
awe as he looked down upon the prostrate form of the man he had expected
to punish. And yet these emotions were rendered vague and slight by the
burning admiration which the niece had excited in his susceptible and
chivalrous heart.

She was tall and very fair, with a face that seemed plain in repose, but
which bewitched him when she smiled. Her erect and powerful body was
glowing with health, and her lips and eyes were deliciously young and
sweet. Her anxious expression passed away as Roy confidently assured her
that these seizures were seldom fatal. He didn't know a thing about it,
but his tone was convincing.

"I knew a man once who had these fits four or five times a year. Didn't
seem to hurt him a bit. One funny thing--he never had 'em while in the
saddle. They 'most always come on just after a heavy meal. I reckon the
old man must of over-et."

Mrs. James came in soon--all too soon to please him--but he reported to
her his message to Claywall. "A doctor will be down on 'the Cannonball'
about five o'clock," he added.

"That's very kind and thoughtful of you," said the girl. Then she
explained to Mrs. James that Mr. Pierce had just driven off a horrid
band of cowboys who were attacking the town.

The landlady snorted with contempt. "I'm so used to boozy cowboys
howlin' round, I don't bat an eye when they shoot up the street. They're
all a lot of cheap skates, anyway. You want to swat 'em with the mop if
they come round; that's the way I do."

Roy was nettled by her tone, for he was now very anxious to pose as a
valorous defender of the innocent; but agreed with her t