k with--only be
quick!"

In a moment the harness had given place to halter and blanket, and the
weak invalid stiffly followed John's firm leading over the sawdust.

Three hours later Bulger said, "She's a good deal better, ain't she?"
and when March smiled fondly on her and replied that he "should say so,"
her owner suggested luncheon.

"No," said John, "you go and eat; I shan't leave her till she's well.
She mustn't lie down, and I can't trust anyone to keep her from doing
it."

Two or three times more Bulger went and came again, and the lamps were
being lighted in the streets when at last John remarked,

"Well, sir, you can harness her up now and drive her home. Nice gyirl!
Nice gyirl! Did you think us was gwine to let you curl up and die out
yond' in the street? No, missie, no! you nice ole gyirl, doggone yo'
sweet soul, no!"

"Mr. March," said Bulger, "I said I'd pay you a hundred dollars if you'd
cure her, didn't I? Well, here's my check for half of it, and if you
just say the word I'll make another for the other half."

John pushed away the proffering hand with a pleased laugh. "I can't take
pay for doctoring a horse, sir, but I will ask a favor of you--in fact,
I'll ask two; and the first is, Come and have dinner with me, will you?"

And when John called on Fannie the next morning, Mr. Bulger had taken a
train for Suez, expecting to return in three days subscriber for all the
land company's stock left untaken through the prudence of the younger
Fair. John had treated himself to a handsome new pocketbook.

LXII.

RAVENEL THINKS HE MUST

"So you'll be leaving us at once!" said Fannie, as the two sat by
Ravenel's bed.

"No, not till Mr. Bulger gets back. I can be up to my neck in work till
then on the colonization side of the business." They bent to hear the
bridegroom's words:

"Wish you wouldn't go East till Friday evening, and then go with us."

"Why Jeff-Jack Ravenel," exclaimed Fannie, with a careworn laugh, "what
are you talking about?"

"Not much fun for John," was the languishing reply, "but big favor to
us."

"But, my goodness!" said the bride, "the doctor won't even let you get
up."

"Got to," responded the smiling invalid. "Got to be in Washington next
Sunday."

"That's simply ridiculous," laughed Fannie, with a pretty toss, and
sauntered into the next room, closing the door between. The sick man's
smile increased:

"She's going in there to cry," he softly drawled.

"Y