for assistance, such a
course was not to be considered, she would rather let Doubler die than to
go to his murderer; she could never have endured the irony of such an
action. Besides, she was certain that even were she to go to him, he would
find some excuse to refuse her, for having shot the nester, he certainly
would do nothing toward bringing the help which might possibly restore him
to life.

She put aside the thought with a shudder of horror, yet conscious that
something must be done for Doubler at once if he was to live. Perhaps it
was already too late to go for assistance; there seemed to be but very
little life in his body, and trembling with anxiety she decided that she
must render him whatever aid she could. There was not much that she could
do, to be sure, but if she could do something she might keep him alive
until other help would come.

She stood beside the door jamb and watched him for some time, for she
dreaded the idea of touching him again, but after a while her courage
returned, and she again went to him, kneeling down beside him, laying her
head on his breast and listening. His heart was beating, faintly, but
still it was beating, and she rose from him, determined.

She found a sheath knife in one of his pockets, and with this she cut the
shirt away from the wound, discovering, when she drew the pieces of cloth
away, that there was a large, round hole in his breast. She came near to
swooning when she thought of the red patch on his back, for that seemed to
prove that the bullet had gone clear through him. It had missed a vital
spot, though, she thought, for it seemed to be rather high on the
shoulder.

She got some water from a pail that stood just inside the door, and with
this and some white cloth which she tore from one of her skirts, she
bathed and bandaged the wound and laid a wet cloth on his forehead. She
tried to force some of the water down his throat, but he could not
swallow, lying there with closed eyes and drawing his breath in short,
painful gasps.

After she had worked with him for a quarter of an hour or more she stood
up, convinced that she had done all she could for him and that the next
move would be to get a doctor.

She had heard Duncan say that it was fifty miles to Dry Bottom, and she
knew that it was at least forty to Lazette. She had never heard anyone
mention that there was a doctor nearer, and so of course she would have to
go to Lazette--ten miles would make a grea