e time, soon, if he lives, I must
marry him," she thought, and the conception troubled her with a new
revelation of what that relationship might mean. She felt suddenly very
small, very weak, and very helpless. "He must be good to me," she
murmured. And then, as the words of his prayer to her came back, she
added: "And I'll be good to him."

Far and farther below her shone the lights in the little hotel, and the
busy and jocund scenes of her girlish life receded swiftly. At this
moment her desk and the little sitting-room where the men lounged seemed
a haven of peace and plenty, and the car, rocking and plunging through
the night, was like a ship rising and falling on wild seas under unknown
stars.

* * * * *

The clear light of the mountain dawn was burnishing brass into gold as
the locomotive with its tolling bell slid up the level track at the end
of its run, and came to a stealthy halt beside the small station.

"Here we are!" called Johnson from his turret, and Bertha rose, stiff
and sore with the long night's ride, her resolution cooled to a kind of
passive endurance. "I'm ready!" she called back.

Williams met her at the step. "It's all right, sis. Mart's still
here--and waiting for you."

Instantly, at sight of his ugly, familiar, friendly face, she became
alert, clear-brained. "How is he?"

"Pretty bad."

"What's it all about? How did it happen?"

"I'll clear that up as we go," he replied, and led the way to a
carriage.

Once inside, she turned her keen gaze upon him. "Now go
ahead--straight."

He did so in the blunt terms of a man whose life had been always on the
border, and who has no nice shading in act or word.

"Is he dying?" she asked at the first pause.

"I'm afraid he is, sister," he replied, gently. "That's what's made the
night seem long to us; but you're here and it's all right now."

That she was to look on him dying had been persistently in her mind, but
that she was to see him mangled by an assassin added horror to her
dread. In spite of her intrepid manner, she was still girl enough to
shudder at the sight of blood.

Williams went on. "He's weak, too weak to talk much, and so I'm going to
tell you what he wants. He wants you to marry him before he dies."

The girl drew away. "Not this minute--to-night?"

"Yes; he wants to give you legal rights to all he has, and you've got to
do it quick. No tellin' what may happen." His voice choked as he sai