she said in a hurried, timid voice. "I have had
training. You can depend upon me."

The Don hesitated, glancing at her dishevelled, gaudy attire, painted
cheeks, and frowsy hair.

"Well," he said, "you may come."

The girl disappeared, and in a very few minutes returned dressed
modestly and quietly, the paint and pencilling washed from her face,
her hair smoothed behind her ears. The Don looked her over, and nodding
approval said: "That is better. Now, hold the light for me."

His examination revealed serious injuries about the head and face,
three ribs broken, one piercing the lungs. With Nellie's assistance he
managed to dress the wounds and set the broken bones before Shock
regained full consciousness.

As they were finishing. Shock opened his eyes and fixed them
enquiringly upon The Don's face.

"Well, how do you feel, old chap? Pretty sore, I guess," enquired The
Don.

Shock tried to speak, but his attempt ended in a groan. Still his eyes
remained fastened enquiringly upon The Don's face. The Don bent over
him.

"The money, Don," he said with great difficulty. "Hospital?"

The Don groaned. He understood only too well, and unable to escape the
insisting eyes, replied: "Yes, Shock. But I will make it all right.
Hickey has it now."

Shock closed his eyes for a few minutes, and then, opening them again,
compelled The Don's attention.

"Send for Ike," he whispered. "Right away."

Next day Ike appeared in a cold, white rage at The Don. He had got the
whole story from the messenger, and blamed no one but The Don.

As Shock's eyes rested upon Ike's lean, hard face, bent over him so
anxiously, he smiled a glad welcome.

"Don't look like that, Ike," he said. "I'll soon be fit."

"Why, you just bet!" said Ike, with a loud laugh, deriding all anxiety.

"Ike," whispered Shock. Ike bent over him. "I want two hundred dollars
at once. Don't tell."

Without a word of questioning Ike nodded, saying "In half an hour, I
guess." But in less time he appeared and, slipping the roll of bills
under Shock's pillow, said: "It's all there."

"Good old boy," said Shock, trying to offer his hand.

Ike took his hand carefully. "Is there anything else?" he said, his
voice grave and hoarse.

"No, old boy," said Shock. "Thank you."

"Then," said Ike, "you'll keep quieter without me, I guess. I'll be on
hand outside." And with a nod he strode out of the room, his face
working with grief and rage.

For a week Ike remaine