away from him. "I am going to make
you some broth," she said then.

He watched her as she went out of the cabin, one white hand lifted to her
throat.

Old Donald MacDonald seated himself on the edge of the bunk. He looked down
at Aldous, chuckling in his beard; and Aldous, with his bruised and swollen
face and half-open eyes, grinned like a happy fiend.

"It was a wunerful, wunerful fight, Johnny!" said old Donald.

"It was, Mac. And you came in fine on the home stretch!"

"What d'ye mean--home stretch?" queried Donald leaning over.

"You saved me from Quade."

Donald fairly groaned.

"I didn't, Johnny--I didn't! DeBar killed 'im. It was all over when I come.
On'y--Johnny--I had a most cur'ous word with Culver Rann afore he died!"

In his eagerness Aldous was again trying to sit up when Joanne appeared in
the doorway. With a little cry she darted to him, forced him gently back,
and brushed old Donald off the edge of the bunk.

"Go out and watch the broth, Donald," she commanded firmly. Then she said
to Aldous, stroking back his hair, "I forbade you to talk. John, dear,
aren't you going to mind me?"

"Did Quade get me with the knife?" he asked.

"No, no."

"Am I shot?"

"No, dear."

"Any bones broken?"

"Donald says not."

"Then please give me my pipe, Joanne--and let me get up. Why do you want me
to lie here when I'm strong like an ox, as Donald says?"

Joanne laughed happily.

"You _are_ getting better every minute," she cried joyously. "But you were
terribly beaten by the rocks, John. If you will wait until you have the
broth I will let you sit up."

A few minutes later, when he had swallowed his broth, Joanne kept her
promise. Only then did he realize that there was not a bone or a muscle in
his body that did not have its own particular ache. He grimaced when Joanne
and Donald bolstered him up with blankets at his back. But he was happy.
Twilight was coming swiftly, and as Joanne gave the final pats and turns to
the blankets and pillows, MacDonald was lighting half a dozen candles
placed around the room.

"Any watch to-night, Donald?" asked Aldous.

"No, Johnny, there ain't no watch to-night," replied the old mountaineer.

He came and seated himself on a bench with Joanne. For half an hour after
that Aldous listened to a recital of the strange things that had
happened--how poor marksmanship had saved MacDonald on the mountain-side,
and how at last the duel had ended with the old hunter