aper
to his eyes.

With a thrill of joy he recognises the handwriting of Hamersley, which
he knows. He is not much of a scholar; still, he can read, and at a
glance makes out the first four words, full of pleasant meaning:

"_Saved by an Angel_!"

He reads no farther, till after giving utterance to a "hurrah!" that
might have been heard many miles over the Staked Plain. Then, more
tranquillised, he continues deciphering the chirography of his companion
to the end; when a second shout terminates the effort.

"Saved by a angel!" he says, muttering to himself. "A angel on the
Staked Plain! Whar can the critter hev come from? No matter whar.
Thar's been one hyar, for sartin. Darn me ef I don't smell the sweet o'
her pettikotes now! This piece o' paper--'t ain't Frank's. I knows he
hedn't a scrap about him. No. Thar's the scent o' a woman on it, sure;
an' whar thar's a woman Frank Hamersley ain't likely to be let die o'
sturvashun. He air too good-lookin' for that. Wall I reck'n it's all
right an' thar ain't no more need for me to hurry. T'war rayther a
scant breakfast I've hed, an' hain't gin this chile's in'ards
saterfacshun. I'll jest chaw another griskin o' the deer-meat to
strengthen me for this six-mile tramp southard."

In less than five minutes after, the smoke from a sage-stalk fire was
seen ascending from beside the palmilla, and in its blaze, quickly
kindled, a huge piece of venison, cut from the fat flanks of the doe,
weighing at least four pounds, spitted upon one of the stiff blades of
the plant, was rapidly turning from blood red to burnt brown.

As circumstances had ofttimes compelled the ex-Ranger to eat his
deer-meat underdone, the habit had become his _gout_; and it was,
therefore, not long before the griskin was removed from the spit. Nor
much longer till it ceased to be a griskin--having altogether
disappeared from his fingers, followed by a gurgling sound, as half the
contents of the canteen went washing it down his throat.

"Now!" he said, springing to his feet, after he had completed his
Homeric repast, "this chile feels strong enuf to face the devil hisself,
an' tharfor he needn't be backward 'bout the encounterin' o' a angel.
So hyar goes to find out Frank Hamersley, an' how _he's_ farin'.
Anyhow, I'll take the deer along in case thar mout be a scarcity o'
eetables, though I reck'n thar's no fear o' that. Whar a angel makes
dwelling-place thar oughter be a full crib, though i