nder her and
her cheeks pallid. The moment of hearing the life-and-death verdict
was at hand and the sorely-tried strength that had carried her so far
forsook her.

But Joe, however weak, was considerate and when still at a distance he
saw her raise a hand weakly in a gesture of questioning and
insufferable suspense and he shouted out his news: "He's gittin' well."

Then the girl groped blindly out with her hands and but for Jerry
O'Keefe who caught her elbow, she would have fallen. The taut nerves
had loosened to that unspeakable relief--but for the moment it was
collapse.

Brent had left the mountains a week after Alexander's safe return, but
within two months he had occasion to return and he rode over to the
mouth of Shoulder-blade. He had been told that Aaron McGivins, though
he had made a swift and complete recovery from his wound, had after all
only been reprieved. He had recently taken to his bed with a heart
attack--locally they called it "smotherin' spells," and no hope was
held out for his recovery.

As Brent rode on from the railroad toward the house he gained later
tidings. The old man was dead.

He dismounted at the stile to find ministering neighbors gathered there
and, as never before, the unrelieved and almost biblical antiquity of
this life impressed itself on his realization. Here was no undertaker,
treading softly with skilled and considerately silent helpers. No
mourning wreath hung on the door. The rasping whine of the saw and
clatter of the hammer were in no wise muted as men who lived nearby
fashioned from undressed boards the box which was to be old Aaron's
casket. Noisy sympathy ran in a high tide where doubtless the bereaved
sought only privacy.

Alexander's face, as she met Brent at the door, was pale with the waxen
softness of a magnolia petal and though the vividness of her lips and
eyes were emphasized by contrast, suffering seemed to have endowed her
remarkable beauty with a sort of nobility--an exquisite delicacy that
was a paradox for one so tall and strong.

The appeal of her wistfully sad eyes struck at his heart as she greeted
him in a still voice.

"I heard--and I wanted to come over," he said and her reply was simple.
"I'm obleeged ter ye. I wants ye ter look at him. He war a godly man
an' a right noble one. Somehow his face----" she spoke slowly and with
an effort, "looks like he'd done already talked with God--an' war at
rest."

At once she led him into th