er he nor Mr.
Drummond saw or heard her approach until Peter's story was told. And
then it was not Ruth, but Jim Colter who broke down. The big, strong man
staggered, and such a queer sound came from between his white lips that
Ruth laid a shaking hand on him and Mr. Drummond caught him by the arm.

"Remember the girls, Jim," Ruth said almost sternly. "This is the time
to think of _them_, not of our own feelings. Mr. Drummond, I must go
back to them first. Will you see that everything is----"

Ruth could not go on, but Peter understood. He was to see that all
necessary arrangements were made to receive the doctor, who was still to
find out if there was any chance of restoring Jack to consciousness.

By the time Ruth returned to the dining room the news of the accident
had somehow spread among most of the guests at breakfast. Only the ranch
girls were entirely unconscious. Jean was teasing Frieda and Olive was
laughing at them, when Ruth put her hand on Jean's shoulder. "Come out
of the room with me as quickly and quietly as possible," she whispered.

"It's Jack, isn't it?" Olive asked with the calmness that so often comes
in the first moment of sorrow, and Ruth silently bowed her head.

For an hour Ruth and the girls waited in their room. Ruth and Olive had
asked to see Jack, but were not allowed to stay with her. Now and then
Mr. Drummond, or Donald Harmon, or Jim would come in to them for a few
moments, but would soon slip out again promising to return when there
was news. Jean and Frieda cried in each other's arms until they were
blind and sick, but neither Olive nor Ruth shed a tear, so differently
do people bear trouble. It seemed that half a lifetime must have passed
when the door was suddenly flung open and Jim Colter walked into the
room and dropped into a chair. The big, weather-beaten man was crying
like a child and shaking as though he were in a chill. Frieda ran to him
and climbed into his lap, putting her arms about his neck and burying
her face on his shoulder. Olive and Jean opened their mouths to speak,
but no words came from their dry lips. The hope that had been sustaining
them vanished at the sight of Jim's broken appearance. Only Ruth
understood.

"Tell us at once, Jim. It isn't fair to make us wait," she said quietly,
guessing that his tears were the tears of relief. "She will live?"

Jim nodded. "Jack opened her eyes a minute ago and said, 'Hello, Jim,'"
he answered brokenly. "The doctor says