uldn't help being grateful, after
all he'd done; but I think it's a shame to be so misunderstood. It's
mean and low down of him--and poor uncle so sick."

"Now don't make a hill out of an ant-heap," said the old woman,
vigorously. "No harm's done. You're a mighty slick girl, and these boys
don't see many like you out here in the sage-brush and pinyons. Facts
are, you're kind o' upsettin' to a feller like Roy. You make him kind o'
drunk-like. He don't mean to be sassy."

"Well, I wish you'd tell him not to do anything more for me. I don't
want to get any deeper in debt to him."

The Claywall physician came into the little room as silently as a Piute.
He was a plump, dark little man of impassive mien, but seemed to know
his business. He drove the girl out of the room, but drafted Mrs. James
and Roy into service.

"It's merely a case of indigestion," said he; "but it's plenty serious
enough. You see, the distended stomach pressing against the heart--"

The girl, sitting in the kitchen and hearing the swift and vigorous
movement within, experienced a revulsion to the awe and terror of the
midnight. For the second time in her life death had come very close to
her, but in this case her terror was shot through with the ruddy
sympathy of a handsome, picturesque young cavalier. She could not be
really angry with him, though she was genuinely shocked by his reckless
disregard of the proprieties; for he came at such a dark and lonely and
helpless hour, and his prompt and fearless action in silencing those
dreadful cowboys was heroic. Therefore, when the doctor sent Roy out to
say that her uncle would live, a part of her relief and joy shone upon
the young rancher, who was correspondingly exalted.

"Now you must let me hang round till he gets well," he said, forgetful
of all other duties.

"That reminds me. You'll need some breakfast," she said, hurriedly; "for
here comes the sun." And as she spoke the light of the morning streamed
like a golden river into the little room.

"It's me to the wood-pile, then," cried Roy, and his smile was of a
piece with the sunshine on the wall.

II

Beside the fallen monarch of the wood the lifting saplings bud and
intertwine. So over the stern old postmaster these young people
re-enacted the most primitive drama in the world. Indifferent to the
jeers of his fellows, Roy devoted himself to the service of "The
Badger's Niece," and was still in town when McCoy returned from "the
East";