d ever come,
the demon of his thirst had Jim by the throat. Sergeant Sewell, of the
grey-stubble head, who loved him more than his sour heart had loved
anybody in all his life, was holding himself ready for the physical
assault he must make upon his superior officer, if he raised a glass to
his lips, when salvation came once again. An accident had occurred far
down on the railway line, and the operator of the telegraph-office had
that very day been stricken down with pleurisy and pneumonia. In despair
the manager had sent to Jim, eagerly hoping that he might help them,
for the Riders of the Plains were a sort of court of appeal for every
trouble in the Far North.

Instantly Jim was in the saddle with his troop. Out of curiosity he
had learned telegraphy when a boy, as he had learned many things, and,
arrived at the scene of the accident, he sent messages and received
them--by sound, not on paper as did the official operator, to the
amazement and pride of the troop. Then, between caring for the injured
in the accident, against the coming of the relief train, and nursing
the sick operator through the dark moments of his dangerous illness,
he passed a crisis of his own disease triumphantly; but not the last
crisis.

So the first and so the second and third years passed in safety.

III

"PLEASE, I want to go, too, Jim."

Jim swung round and caught the child up in his arms. "Say, how dare you
call your father Jim--eh, tell me that?"

"It's what mummy calls you--it's pretty."

"I don't call her 'mummy' because you do, and you mustn't call me Jim
because she does--do you hear?" The whimsical face lowered a little,
then the rare and beautiful dark blue eyes raised slowly, shaded by the
long lashes, and the voice said demurely, "Yes--Jim."

"Nancy--Nancy," said a voice from the corner in reproof, mingled with
suppressed laughter. "Nancy, you musn't be saucy. You must say 'father'
to--"

"Yes, mummy. I'll say father to--Jim."

"You imp--you imp of delight," said Jim, as he strained the dainty
little lass to his breast, while she appeared interested in a wave of
his black hair, which she curled around her finger.

Sally came forwards with the little parcel of sandwiches she had been
preparing, and put them in the saddle-bags lying on a chair at the
door, in readiness for the journey Jim was about to make. Her eyes were
glistening, and her face had a heightened colour. The three years
which had passed since she mar