floated before his
eyes. At times he had tried to rise from the bed, his unbalanced mind
obsessed with the idea of washing for gold, but those same strange, soft
hands had always succeeded in preventing this--saving once.

On that occasion he actually succeeded in getting from the bed and
standing up. He carefully placed one leaden leg before the other, and was
nearly on the threshold of the door when the familiar apparition
appeared.

"She doesn't know--I'm wise to all that happened--but I know. She had to
do that--poor gal!... I'll jest go and tell her it's all right--not to
worry none...."

Two supple arms caught him. He pushed them away, rather irritably.

"Don't butt in.... It's her I'm thinkin' of--Angela. She's sure hard and
cold and can't see no good in me,... but she's got to be happy--got to be
happy.... Maybe she's right. I'm only fit for hosses and wild women...."

He found himself in bed again, and quite unconscious of the fact that he
had ever been out of it; but he still continued to ramble on in monotonous
and eerie fashion, about Angela, Colorado, fifty thousand pounds, and
sundry other things.

Full consciousness came early one morning. He had been lying trying to
piece together all the queer things that floated to his brain through the
medium of his disarranged optic nerve. He succeeded in arriving at the
fact that there was a bed and he was lying on it, and that the ceiling
was comprised of rough logs.... Then an arm was placed behind his head
and a mug of something hot was placed to his lips. But he didn't drink.
His sight was coming back at tremendous speed. The hazy face before him
took definite shape. A pair of intensely blue eyes were fixed on him, and
red shapely lips seemed to smile.

"Angela!" he gasped.

She nodded and turned her eyes down.

"Yes, it is I. Don't talk--you are too weak."

"But I don't understand. Why did you come back?"

He saw the mouth quiver.

"I came back because----"

"Go on."

"I came back because I told you a lie.... I didn't realize then what a
despicable lie it was--one that reflected upon the character of a good
friend, and made me seem like dirt in your eyes.... I wanted my freedom at
any price, but that price was too high.... I--I couldn't go and let you
think--that."

Her shoulders shook, and he saw that she was trying to conceal her sobs.

"When did you come back?" he queried in a slow voice.

"Two days after I left. I found you gone, but k