the terrors of the night.

Sam was glad to see them go. Their endless and futile discussion of
what had happened tried his temper.

In the morning Husky was feverish. His mates shrugged and left him to
Sam. Their attitude toward the injured one was as naive as that of
children or animals.

Sam had no love for the gross figure on the bed, who, he felt, had
earned what he got. Nevertheless, he did what offices humanity
suggested; washing the wound and redressing it; bringing ice from the
lake shore to mitigate his fever. He had to smile at Husky's changed
tone in his lucid moments.

"Do you think this will croak me?" he continually asked. "Lord, I
ain't ready to die! I leave it to you, cook; shouldn't a man have some
warning of his end? Lord, if I get over this I'll lead a different
life! I swear I will! Lord, think of dying in a God-forsaken place
like this without a parson to clear the track for you! It ain't fair
to catch you like this. Not even a Bible in the outfit!"

"I have a Bible," said Sam grimly.

"Get it for me; there's a good fellow," begged Husky.

Sam did so. "Do you want me to read it to you?" he asked.

"No use," said Husky. "Couldn't never get the hang of it. But let me
have it here in bed with me. That's something."

As the day wore on the patient grew worse, and the other men became
more and more chary of approaching him. However, toward the end of the
afternoon, a cold squall of rain drove them indoors in spite of
themselves.

They squatted on the floor at the farthest possible distance from the
bed and half-heartedly dealt the cards for euchre. Meanwhile Sam
busied himself baking bread, trying to remember what he could of the
girl's deft technique. He could think of her now with a pleasant
warmth about the heart. She had redeemed her sex in his eyes.

Careless of whether he heard them, the men joked outrageously about
Husky's condition. It was their way of hiding their helpless terror.

"Well, old Husk is bound for the heavenly shore, I guess," said Jack.

"We'll give him a bang-up funeral," suggested Joe. "Spill a little
booze and carve a board to put at his head. It's the least we can do
for a pal."

"When Husk gets to the golden gates," Jack went on, "if Peter tries to
hold him up, he'll say, 'What is it worth to you, old man?'"

This well-known saying of their partner produced a subdued laugh all
around.

Black Shand remarked in his curt way: "Husky wouldn't get along in
heav