was at a standstill.

He really became angry in his anxiety. Angry with Kate, angry with the
men. However, his displeasure was not likely to help matters, so he
and Helen turned to and fed the few livestock, made them snug for the
night, and then proceeded to consider Helen's position. After some
debate it was decided to appeal to Mrs. John Day. This was promptly
done, and the leading citizeness, after a closer cross-examination,
consented to take the girl under her brusque wing, and lodged her in
her own rather resplendent house.

This was comparatively satisfactory, and Bill breathed his relief. But
hard upon this came the more alarming realization that Charlie did not
return home on Sunday night. Not only that, but nothing was heard of
him the whole of Monday. All the alarmed brother was able to discover
was the fact that Charlie had left the saloon at the time O'Brien
closed it, about midnight on Sunday, in a hopelessly drunken
condition.

So, what with assisting Helen with the work of her homestead, and
searching for his defaulting brother, Bill's day was an anxious one.
Then, at nightfall, a further concern added fresh trouble to his
thought. Kid Blaney had defected as well, and, in consequence, the
work of Charlie's little ranch had been completely at a standstill the
whole day.

In the end, quite wearied out with his unusual exertions, Bill
abandoned all further attempt to get a grip on the situation and went
to bed. He knew he must be up early in the morning, at daylight, in
fact, for he had promised Helen to be at the ceremony of the felling
of the pine tree, for which all preparations had been duly made under
the watchful and triumphant eye of Mrs. John Day.

Sleep, however, was long in coming. His brain was too busy, a sign he
was secretly pleased at. He felt that during the last two days he had
more than proved his ability in emergency. So, lying awake, waiting
patiently for sleep to come, he rather felt like a general in action,
perfectly assured of his own capacity to meet every situation
successfully.

It was nearly midnight when he finally dropped off into a light and
rather disturbed slumber. How long he had slept, or even if he really
had slept at all, he was never quite sure, for, quite suddenly, he was
aroused, and wide awake, by the sound of his own name being called in
the darkness.

"Bill! Bill!"

At the second pronouncement of his name he was sitting up with his
bare feet on the bar