, and her fine, clear glance rested upon the face of the
priest. Tears were on her cheeks, but a kind of exultation was in her
tone as she said: "I am willing, father."

With a look which denoted his appreciation of the girl's courage, the
priest stepped forward and led her to her place beside her bridegroom.
She took Haney's big nerveless hand in her firm grasp, and together they
listened to the solemn words which made them husband and wife. It seemed
that the gambler was passing into the shadow during the opening prayer,
but his whispered responses came at the proper pauses, and only when the
final benediction was given, and the priest and the judge fell back
before the rush of the young doctor, did the wounded man's eyes close in
final collapse. He had indeed reached the end of his endurance.

The young wife spoke then, imperiously, almost fiercely, asking: "Why is
he lying here? This is no place for him."

The doctor explained. "We were afraid to move him--till you came. In
fact, he wouldn't let me move him. If you say so now, we will take him
up." With these words the watchers shifted their responsibility to her
shoulders, uttering sighs of deep relief. Whatever happened now, Mart's
will had been secured. At her command they lifted the table on which her
husband lay, and the wife walked beside it, unheeding the throngs of
silent men walling her path. Every one made way for her, waited upon
her, eager to serve her, partly because she was Marshall Haney's wife,
but more because of her youth and the brave heart which looked from her
clear and candid eyes.

She showed no hesitation now, gave out no word of weakness; on the
contrary, she commanded with certainty and precision, calling to her aid
all that the city afforded. Not till she had summoned the best surgeons
and was sure that everything had been done that could be done did she
permit herself to relax--or to think of rest or her mother.

When she had sunk to sleep upon a couch beside her husband's bed,
Williams, with a note of deep admiration, demanded of the surgeon:
"Ain't she a little Captain? Mart can't die now, can he? He's got too
much to live for."

CHAPTER VI

THE HANEY PALACE

One day early in the following summer a tall, thin man, with one
helpless side, entered the big luminous hall of the Antlers Hotel at the
Springs, upheld by a stalwart attendant, and accompanied by a
sweet-faced, calm-lipped young woman. This was Marshall Haney and