om in front of the tent and spread it over Shanklin's
body, shrouding it completely. Dr. Slavens had lowered the flap of the
tent to keep the sun from the wounded man's face. When he came out,
Agnes met him with an inquiring look.

"He's conscious," said the doctor. "The blow of that heavy bullet
knocked the wind out of him for a while."

"Will he--lapse again?" asked the Governor, balancing between hope and
fear.

"It isn't likely. You may go in and speak to him now if you want to. But
he must keep still. A little exertion might start a hemorrhage."

Jerry Boyle lay upon his back, his bloodless face toward them, as they
gathered noiselessly in the door of the tent. His eyes were standing
open, great and questioning, out of his pallor, nothing but the animal
quality of bewilderment and fear in their wide stare.

Governor Boyle went in and dropped to his knees beside the cot. Dr.
Slavens followed hastily, and placed his hand on the wounded man's
breast.

"You may listen," said he; "but keep still."

"Don't even try to whisper," admonished the Governor, taking his son's
hand between his own.

"That's all right, Governor," replied the young man, his face quickening
with that overrunning little crinkling, like wind over water, which was
his peculiar gift for making his way into the hearts of women and men,
unworthy as he was.

"Be still!" commanded the old man. "I know what happened. There's
nothing to say now."

"Did I get him?" whispered Jerry, turning his head a little and looking
eagerly into his father's face.

The Governor placed his hand over his son's mouth, silencing the young
man with a little hissing sound, like a mother quieting her babe.

Agnes turned away, the disgust which she felt for this savage spirit of
the man undisguised in her face. Dr Slavens cautioned the Governor
again.

"If he says another word, you'll have to leave him," said he. "This is
one case where talk will turn out anything but cheap."

He joined Agnes, and together they walked away from the scene of
violence and death.

"You're tired to death," said he. "I'm going to take possession of
Boyle's tent down there for you, and you've got to take a long sleep.
After that we'll think about the future."

She walked on beside him, silent and submissive, interposing no
objection to his plan. They found the tent very well equipped; he
started to leave her there to her repose. She stood in the door with her
hat in her hand, her h