e an open book in large black type."

"Bound in scarlet and gold," added Ellen. "Tell us, Red. You really have
good news?"

"The best. I am pretty confident Anne Linton has turned the corner. I
hoped it yesterday, but wasn't sure enough to say so. Did you know that,
too?"

"Of course. But you were in small type yesterday. To-day he who runs may
read. You would know it yourself, wouldn't you, Jordan?"

The man in the bed studied the man who stood at its foot. The two
regarded each other as under peculiar circumstances men do who have a
strong bond of affection and confidence between them.

"He's such a bluffer," said King. "I hadn't supposed anybody could tell
much about what he was thinking. But I do see he looks pretty jolly this
morning, and I don't imagine it's all bluff. I'm certainly glad to hear
Miss Linton is doing well."

"Doing well isn't exactly the phrase even now," admitted Red Pepper.
"There are lots of things that can happen yet. But the wind and waves
have floated her little craft off the rocks, and the leaks in the boat
are stopped. If she doesn't spring any more, and the winds continue
favourable, we'll make port."

Jordan King looked as happy as if he had been the brother of this
patient of Burns's, whom neither of them had known a month ago, and whom
one of them had seen but once.

"That's great," he said. "I haven't dared to ask since I came here
myself, knowing how poor the prospects were the last time I did ask. I
was afraid I should surely hear bad news. When can we begin to send her
flowers again? Couldn't I send some of mine? I'd like her to have
Susquehanna there, and Rappahannock--and I think Arapahoe and Apache
will run them pretty close on lasting. Would you mind taking them to her
when you go?" His eyes turned to Mrs. Burns.

"I'd love to, but I shall not dare to tell her you are here, just yet.
She is very weak, isn't she, Red?"

"As a starved pussy cat. The flowers won't hurt her, but we don't want
to rouse her sympathies as yet."

"I should say not. Don't mention me; just take her the posies,"
instructed King, his cheek showing a slight access of colour.

"You won't know whether Susquehanna wins your wager or not," Ellen
reminded him as she obediently separated the indicated blooms,
magnificent great hothouse specimens with stems like pillars. That the
finest of all these roses, not excepting those she had sent herself, had
come from private greenhouses, she well knew. The