oming right away, but we got word you were better, and he thought I
should run up anyway for a day to see if we could do anything. I'm to
go back to-morrow."

"It was good of you to come," Weston said, "but there is nothing to be
done. Just tell Mills the whole valley is nursing me; tell him that
I've one nurse alone who is worth a score." Mrs. Spiker looked very
conscious, but Weston smiled at Mary. Then he quickly added: "Tell him
that Mrs. Bolum and Mrs. Spiker and Mrs. Pulsifer--" he paused to make
sure that none was missed--"and Mark here are a hospital corps, taken
singly or in a body."

"I've told him that already," said Tim. "He knows everybody in Six
Stars, I guess, and he says as soon as you get well and come back to
the office, he will take a holiday himself, fox hunting."

"Poor little Colonel!" murmured Weston. "He'll have a melancholy
career. And Mary, too, she'll----"

"But it was when I told him about Mary that he made up his mind to
come," Tim said.

"Indeed." The girl spoke very quietly. "And, perhaps, Tim, you'll
send Edith along to help us. We women of Black Log are so clumsy."

"A good idea," said Weston. "Capital. You must bring Miss Smyth up,
too, Tim."

"Parker," I corrected, "Edith Parker."

"But is it Parker?" Weston appealed to my brother. "Mark tells me
she's the book-keeper's daughter. Has old Smyth gone?"

"No," Tim stammered, very much confused. "I guess you don't know
Parker. He's come lately."

"That explains it, then," said Weston.

But he turned and looked away from us, his brow knitted. Something
seemed to puzzle him, for he was frowning, but by and by the old
cynical smile came back.

He said suddenly: "Tim, I wish you luck. I'm glad anyway it isn't
Smyth's daughter. That was what I couldn't understand. Ever see
Smyth's daughter? No. Well, you needn't bemoan it. I dare say Miss
Parker is all you picture her, and I hope you'll win."

"Don't you think you'd better rest now?" asked Tim, with sudden
solicitation. Though he addressed himself to Weston, his eyes were
appealing to the doctor.

"I think I had," Weston answered, not waiting for the physician to
interpose any order. "I get tuckered out pretty easily these days,
with this confounded bullet-hole in me--but stay a moment, Tim.
They've got a letter from me at the office by this time. It may
surprise them; it may surprise you, but I wanted you to know I'd fixed
it all right for you, my