erge of exhaustion. Now his foot
apparently struck a small rock, and he pitched to his face. It
required a long struggle before he could regain his feet; and now he
continued his journey at the same gait, only more uncertainly than
ever, close and closer. There was something familiar now about the
fellow's size, and something in the turn of his head. Suddenly she
rode out, crying: "Wilbur!"

He swerved, saw the white horse, threw up his hands high above his
head, and went backward, reeling, with a hoarse scream which Jacqueline
would never forget. She galloped to him and swung to the ground.

"It's me--Jack. D'you hear?"

He would not lower those arms, and his eyes stared wildly at her. On
his forehead the blood had caked over a cut; his shirt was torn to
rags, and the hair matted wildly over his eyes. She caught his hands
and pulled them down.

"It's not McGurk! Don't you hear me? It's Jack!"

He reached out, like a blind man who has to see by the sense of touch,
and stroked her face.

"Jack!" he whispered at last. "Thank God!"

"What's happened?"

"McGurk--"

A violent palsy shook him, and he could not go on.

"I know--I understand. He took your guns and left you to wander in
this hell! Damn him! I wish--"

She stopped.

"How long since you've eaten?"

"Years!"

"We'll eat--McGurk's food!"

But she had to assist him up the slope to the trees, and there she left
him propped against a trunk, his arms fallen weakly at his sides, while
she built the fire and cooked the food. Afterward she could hardly
eat, watching him devour what she placed before him; and it thrilled
all the woman in her to a strange warmth to take care of the
long-rider. Then, except for the disfigured face and the bloodshot
eyes, he was himself.

"Up there? What happened?"

He pointed up the valley.

"The girl and Pierre. They're together."

"She found him?"

"Yes."

He bowed his head and sighed.

"And the horse, Jack?" He said it with awe.

"I took the horse from McGurk."

"You!"

She nodded. After all, it was not a lie.

"You killed McGurk?"

She said coolly: "I let him go the way he let you, Dick. He's on foot
in the mountains without a horse or a gun."

"It isn't possible!"

"There the horse for proof."

He looked at her as if she were something more than human.

"Our Jack--did this?"

"We've got to start on. Can you walk, Dick?"

"A thousand miles now."

Yet he staggered whe