d on his
feet this time. His head was as clear as a bell. He began experimenting
by inhaling deeper and still deeper breaths and by straightening his
chest.

There was no pain, as he had expected there would be. He felt like
crying out in his joy. One after the other he stretched up his arms. He
bent over until the tips of his fingers touched the floor. He crooked
his knees, leaned from side to side, changed from one attitude to
another, amazed at the strength and elasticity of his body. Twenty
times, before he returned to his bed, he walked back and forth across
his room.

He was sleepless. Lying with his back to the pillows he looked out into
the starlight, watching for the first glow of the moon and listening
again to the owls that had nested in the lightning-shriven tree. An
hour later he resumed his exercise.

He was on his feet when through his window he heard the sound of
approaching voices and then of running feet. A moment later some one
was pounding at a door, and a loud voice shouted for Doctor Cardigan.
Kent drew cautiously nearer the window. The moon had risen, and he saw
figures approaching, slowly, as if weighted under a burden. Before they
turned out of his vision, he made out two men bearing some heavy object
between them. Then came the opening of a door, other voices, and after
that an interval of quiet.

He returned to his bed, wondering who the new patient could be.

He was breathing easier after his exertion. The fact that he was
feeling keenly alive, and that the thickening in his chest was
disappearing, flushed him with elation. An unbounded optimism possessed
him. It was late when he fell asleep, and he slept late. It was
Mercer's entrance into his room that roused him. He came in softly,
closed the door softly, yet Kent heard him. The moment he pulled
himself up, he knew that Mercer had a report to make, and he also saw
that something upsetting had happened to him. Mercer was a bit excited.

"I beg pardon for waking you, sir," he said, leaning close over Kent,
as though fearing the guard might be listening at the door. "But I
thought it best for you to hear about the Indian, sir."

"The Indian?"

"Yes, sir--Mooie, sir. I am quite upset over it, Mr. Kent. He told me
early last evening that he had found the scow on which the girl was
going down-river. He said it was hidden in Kim's Bayou."

"Kim's Bayou! That was a good hiding-place, Mercer!"

"A very good place of concealment indeed,