as he paced up and down between the two rows of
horses, or as he looked out of the stable door at the little misty
patch, of light that now and then flashed out through the storm, one
agonizing, burning thought that caused the perspiration to run down
his face and more than once forced him to his knees in an agony of
prayer. And the burden of his heart's cry was that the little girl
might live.

Before daybreak the storm died away, and only the snowdrifts, packed
hard and high, gave evidence of the night's fury. Sandy Braden stole
quietly up to the tent and looked in, the beating of his own heart
nearly choking him. Dr. MacTavish slept on the lounge, the peaceful
sleep of a child, or of a man who has done good work. Beside the bed
sat Dr. Clay, watching, alert, hopeful. From the tent door where he
stood he could see the little white face on the pillow and he knew
from the way the child breathed that she was sleeping easily. The
eastern wall of the tent was rosy with the dawn. Then he went back to
the stable, hitched up his team, and drove home in the sparkling
sunshine.

Dr. MacTavish woke up soon after, and Dr. Clay went into the house to
tell Mrs. Cavers. She had spent the long night by the kitchen fire
listening to the raging of the storm, Martha close beside her in
wordless sympathy, and when Dr. Clay came in with, the good news that
the operation was over, and the great man believed that Libby Anne
would live, she was almost hysterical with joy.

"Can I go and see her, doctor?" she cried. "I must go and thank him
for coming. Wasn't it splendid of him to come this dreadful night?"

"Come on, Mrs. Cavers," he said, his beaming.

"Oh, my dear woman, don't thank me for coming," the doctor said,
laughing, when in broken phrases she tried to tell him what she felt.
"Never did a man come more against his will than I. But I had no
choice in the matter when that big giant got hold of me. He coaxed me
at first"--laughing at the recollection--"then tried to bribe me--I
forget what fabulous sum he offered me--half of his kingdom, I think.
I mind he asked me if money were any use to me, but I stuck it out
that I wouldn't come until he said he'd break every bone in my body,
or words to that effect. So, my dear lady, your good man deserves all
the credit--he simply bundled me up and brought me. I believe he
swore at me, but I'm not sure."

Mrs. Cavers stared at him uncomprehendingly.

"Say, Clay," the doctor went on gai