ough
just now. I don't want much. You can get some fresh after a while. I want
to talk to you."

She placed the pail down and went over to him, standing beside him.

"What is it?" she asked.

"How long have you been here? I knowed you was here all the time--I kept
seein' you, but somehow things was a little mixed. But I know that you've
been here quite a while. How long?"

"This is the second night."

"You found me layin' there--in the door. I dropped there, not bein' able
to go any further. I felt you touchin' me--draggin' me. There was someone
else here, too. Who was it?"

"The doctor and Dakota."

"Where's Dakota now?"

"At his cabin, I suppose. He didn't stay here long--he left right after he
brought the doctor. I imagine you know why he didn't stay. He was afraid
that you would recognize him and accuse him."

"Accuse him of what, ma'am?"

"Of shooting you."

He smiled. "I reckon, ma'am, that you don't understand. It wasn't Dakota
that shot me."

"Who did, then?" she questioned eagerly. "Who?"

"Duncan."

"Why--why----" she said, sitting suddenly erect, a mysterious elation
filling her, her eyes wide with surprise and delight, and a fear that
Doubler might have been mistaken--"Why, I saw Dakota on the river trail
just after you were shot."

"He'd just left me. He hadn't been gone more than ten minutes or so when
Duncan rode up--comin' out of the timber just down by the crick. Likely
he'd been hidin' there. I was cleanin' my rifle; we had words, and when I
set my rifle down just outside the shack, he grabbed it an' shot me. After
that I don't seem to remember a heap, except that someone was touchin'
me--which must have been you."

"Oh!" she said. "I am _so_ glad!"

She was thinking now of Dakota's parting words to her the night before on
the crest of the slope above the river,--of his words, of the truth of his
statement denying his guilt, and she was glad that she had not spoken some
of the spiteful things which had been in her mind. How she had misjudged
him!

"I reckon it's something to be glad for," smiled Doubler, misunderstanding
her elation, "but I reckon I owe it to you--I'd have pulled my freight
sure, if you hadn't come when you did. An' I told you not to be comin'
here any more." He laughed. "Ain't it odd how things turn out--sometimes.
I'd have died sure," he repeated.

"You are going to live a long while," she said. And then, to his surprise,
she bent over and kissed his forehe