ixed upon Jennie's face with a look of horror. "There,
deary, you're all right now," Jennie patted her cheek reassuringly:
"You're all right," she repeated. "Don't you remember me--Jennie Dodds,
that was? At the Wolf River Hotel?"

Alice's lips moved feebly: "It must have been a horrible dream--I
thought I was tied up--and I broke loose and saw Long Bill and when I
tried to get away there stood that horrible Purdy--and he said--" she
closed her eyes and shuddered.

"I guess it wasn't no dream, at that. Purdy brung you here. But you're
safe an' sound now, deary. Jest you wait till I feed you some of this
soup. I'll guarantee you ain't et this noon--an' prob'ly all day."
Jennie moved to the stove and returned a moment later with a cup of
steaming soup. Supporting her in a sitting posture, she doled out the
hot liquid by spoonfuls. Several times during the process Alice
endeavoured to speak but each time Jennie soothed her to silence, and
when the cup was finally emptied her eyes closed wearily and she sank
back onto the pillow.

Presently her eyes opened: "Where--where is Tex?" she asked, in a
scarcely audible tone. "Was he here, too?"

"Tex! You mean Tex Benton? Law! I don't know! He ain't be'n seen sence
that night back in Wolf River."

"He didn't drown--and he's--somewhere--after Purdy--" the voice trailed
off into silence and at the bedside Jennie waited until the regular
breathing told her that the girl had sunk into the deep sleep of utter
exhaustion. Then, with a heavy heart, she turned and stepped from the
cabin, closing the door softly behind her.

Out of the tail of his eye Cinnabar Joe saw his wife step from the
doorway. Rising, hastily from the sill he seized his hammer and began to
pound industriously upon a nail that had been driven home two days
before. And as he pounded, he whistled. He turned at the sound of his
wife's voice. She stood close beside him.

"Now, Joe Banks, don't you stand there an' whistle like a fool! They
ain't no more a whistle in your heart than they is in mine!" There was a
catch in her voice, and she sank down upon the sill. The whistling
ceased, and with rough tenderness Cinnabar laid a hand on her shoulder:

"It's tough on you, girl--after gittin' such a good start. When I told
you awhile back that there couldn't nothin' happen, I overlooked one
bet--Purdy."

"Oh, what is it, Joe? What's he got on you? Come, Joe, tell me all about
it. I married you fer better or fer worse