him to see her--and bring her."

"Well, be quick about it. Expense don't count now."

It was beautiful to see how these citizens, rough and sordid as many of
them were, rose to the poetic value of the situation. As one of them,
who had seen (and loved) the girl, told of her youth and beauty, they
all stood in rigidly silent attention. "She's hardly more than a child,"
he explained, "but you never saw a more level-headed little business
woman in your life. She runs the Golden Eagle Hotel at Junction, and
does it alone. That's what caught Mart, you see. She's as straight as a
Ute, and her eyes are clear as agates. She's a little captain--just the
mate for Mart. She'll save him if anybody can."

"Will she come? Can she get away?"

"Of course she'll come. She'll ride an engine or jump a flat-car to get
here. You can depend on a woman in such things. She don't stop to
calculate, she ain't that kind. She comes--you can bet high on that. I'm
only worrying for fear Mart won't hold out till she gets here."

Meanwhile, every man in the room where Haney lay, sat in silence, with
an air of waiting--waiting for the inevitable end. The bleeding had been
checked, but the sufferer's breathing was painful and labored, and the
doctor, sitting close beside him, was studying means to prolong life--he
had given up hope of saving it. With stiffened lips Haney repeated now
and again: "Keep me alive till she comes, doctor. She must marry
me--here. I want her to have all I've got--_everything_!"

At another time he said: "Get the judge--have everything ready!"

They understood. He wished to dower his love with his wealth, to place
in her hands his will, beyond the reach of any contestant, and this
resolution through the hours of his agony, through the daze of his
weakness persisted heroically--till even the doctor's throat filled with
sympathetic emotion, as he thought of the young maiden soon to be thrust
into this tragic drama. He answered, soothingly: "I'll do all I can,
Mart. There's a lot of vitality in you yet. We won't give up. You'll
pull through, with her help."

To this Haney made no reply, and the hours passed with ghostly step. It
was a most moving experience for the young doctor to look round that
wide room littered with scattered cards, the wheels of chance motionless
at the hazard where the last gambler's bet had ended. In the "lookout's
chair," where Haney himself used to sit, an unseen arbiter now gloomed,
watching a ga