tient.

When at last the announcement was made that the engineer had come out
of his swoon and probably would live, the sheriff and all the members
of the posse not employes of Knowles prepared to ride down to Plum
Creek ranch for the night. The cowman ordered his men to go down with
the party, to water the horses and bring back food and water for the
camp. The surgeon had said that his patient could not be moved for
many days.

But before the party rode off, each man, from the sheriff to the
youngest of the punchers, came to where Ashton was still lying on the
grass, and took his limp hand in theirs. They did not grip it, for the
tattered glove and shredded bandages were wet with blood; nor did they
put into speech what they thought of him. A gruff word or two of
fellowship and parting was all they gave him. Yet he saw and knew that
he had won his place among these reddest blooded of all red-blooded
men.

When one of his fellow employes came to him, leading Rocket, he sought
to summon strength enough to rise, but found that he could not even
turn on his side. He had driven his body to superhuman efforts. He
must now pay the price. At his request, he was lifted up on Rocket,
but he could not hold up his head, much less his body. They laid him
again on the grass, and told Knowles his condition, before they rode
off.

The cowman fetched the surgeon, who felt the pulse of the exhausted
man, gave him a pellet, and hastened back to Blake. In a few moments
Ashton's feeble, racing pulse became calm and slow, the wild whirl of
his thoughts lulled. He sank into profound slumber.

When he awoke the sun of another day was just clearing the great white
peaks of the snowy range. He was outstretched on a soft bed of
blankets spread over a thick layer of pine needles. Above his face
sloped the roof of a small tent. He had been cared for--but there was
no one watching at his bedside. He thought he understood, and smiled
in bitter resignation.

When he moved, racking pains shot through his stiff muscles. Only the
renewed life that surged through his veins enabled him to turn and
twist and bend until the pains subsided to a dull aching and he was
able to command his limbs. His hands were swathed fast in bandages. He
tore them off with his teeth until the fingers were free enough for
use. After much effort, he succeeded in forcing his swollen feet into
his boots.

In the midst Yuki, the Jap cook, appeared before the low entrance