called her. But
Agatha had retired, resenting the girl's manner.

Almost to the door, Rosalind detected movement in the ghostly semi-light
that flooded the plains between the porch and the picturesque spot, more
than a mile away, on which Levins' cabin stood. She halted at the door and
watched, and when the moving object resolved into a horse, loping swiftly,
she strained her eyes toward it. At first it seemed to have no rider, but
when it had approached to within a hundred yards of her, she gasped,
leaped off the porch and ran toward the horse. An instant later she stood
at the animal's head, voicing her astonishment.

"Why, it's Chuck Levins! Why on earth are you riding around at this hour
of the night?"

"Sissy's sick. Maw wants you to please come an' see what you can do--if it
ain't too much trouble."

"Trouble?" The girl laughed. "I should say not! Wait until I saddle my
horse!"

She ran to the porch and stole silently into the house, emerging with a
small medicine case, which she stuck into a pocket of her coat. Once
before she had had occasion to use her simple remedies on Sissy--an
illness as simple as her remedies; but she could feel something of Mrs.
Levins' concern for her offspring, and--and it was an ideal night for a
gallop over the plains.

It was almost midnight by the Levins' clock when she entered the cabin,
and a quick diagnosis of her case with an immediate application of one of
her remedies, brought results. At half past twelve Sissy was sleeping
peacefully, and Chuck had dozed off, fully dressed, no doubt ready to
re-enact his manly and heroic role upon call.

It was not until Rosalind was ready to go that Mrs. Levins apologized for
her husband's rudeness to his guest.

"Clay feels awfully bitter against Corrigan. It's because Corrigan is
fighting Trevison--and Trevison is Clay's friend--they've been like
brothers. Trevison has done so much for us."

Rosalind glanced around the cabin. She had meant to ask Chuck why his
father had not come on the midnight errand, but had forebore. "Mr. Levins
isn't here?"

"Clay went away about nine o'clock." The woman did not meet Rosalind's
direct gaze; she flushed under it and looked downward, twisting her
fingers in her apron. Rosalind had noted a strangeness in the woman's
manner when she had entered the cabin, but she had ascribed it to the
child's illness, and had thought nothing more of it. But now it burst upon
her with added force, and when s