ined the others when they
come to rescue. I guess I got the truth, and I guess if you want any
evidence about me you can get it. Lots of people know me out here. I
ain't got any house or any home, and I get drunk sometimes, and I ain't
got money to buy meals with, lots of times, but nobody ever knowed me
lie. That's what ruined me--I been too truthful. Well, I'm not lying
now, Mister. I'm telling you the God-help-me truth. He's a gentleman."
He pointed again to Orlando. "He's a gentleman from away back in God's
country, wherever that is, and she's the best of the best of the very
best.

"You can bet your greasy old boots and ugly face that you've got a
bigger fortune in that wife of yours than you've any right to. Say,
she's a queen, Mister, and don't you forget it, and"--he drawled out his
words--"you go inside your house and get down on your knees, same as you
do in the Meeting House, and thank the Lord you love so well for all his
blessings. As my friend here said a little while back"--he pointed to
Orlando again--"'Damn you, Mazarine!' Go and hide yourself."

The old man stood for a moment dumbfounded; then, without a word, he
turned and hunched inside the house.

"He raised his horsewhip ag'in' a woman, did he?" said one of Orlando's
ranchmen. "Ain't that a matter we got to take notice of?"

"Boys," said Orlando as he motioned them to be off, "Mrs. Mazarine can
take care of herself. You'll forget what's happened, if you want to play
up to her. If she needs you, she'll be sure to let you know."

A moment afterwards they were all on their way on the road leading to
Slow Down Ranch.

"He didn't giggle much that time," said one of the ranchmen of Orlando,
as they moved on.

CHAPTER XI. LOUISE

The Young Doctor had had a trying day. Certain of his cases had given
him anxiety; his drives had been long and fatiguing; he had had little
sleep for several nights; and he was what Patsy Kernaghan had called
"brittle"; for when Patsy was in a vexed condition, he used to say, "I'm
so brittle I'll break if you look at me." As the Young Doctor drew his
chair up to the supper-table and looked at his food with a critical air,
he was very brittle.

For one born in Enniskillen he had an even nature, but its evenness
was more the result of mental control than temperament. He sighed as
he looked at the marrow bones which, as a rule, gave him joy when their
turn came in the weekly menu; he eyed askance the baked potatoes