ish in repetition. They cried, too, which is excusable in a child,
but not in two big men. Men don't cry. It is the monopoly of women.
Nevertheless, Bud and Jim and Ches cried and swore, and shook hands and
cried again until it was a pitiful thing to see.

"Well," said Bud at last, "this makes you feel better, but it won't get
the work done. I've got to go out and fix old Buck and get in some
firewood."

"Oh, I'll do that!" cried Jim, raising himself on his elbow.

"You?" jeered Bud. "You look like it! Now, you lie right down there and
get well--that's your play. It would make us feel as if we'd wasted our
time if we had to turn to and bury you after all the trouble we've had.
You're good for two weeks in that bunk, old horse."

"Two weeks! I can't, Bud; I can't! I must get up before that!"

"You lie down there--hear me?"

"But I'll have to see to things around--you can't stay."

"I stay right here till you're well."

"But the mail?"

"The devil take the mail--or anybody else that wants the job. Uncle Sammy
won't hop on to my collar button, because of the fine send-off my friend
the inspector'll give. And somebody will get orry-eyed up in town, and
come down to find what's loose. He'll take the bags then. It's all
settled."

"But there are other things--"

"Let 'em rest. Now I'm off to do the chores--oh, say, speaking of mail,
here's a letter for you I forgot all about in the excitement--here you
go. Come along, Ches, and help me carry wood."

The miner looked at the letter in his hand, and a tinge of blood crept
into his white cheeks, then ebbed, leaving them whiter than before.

Suppose there were other men who wanted her; men with money, learning,
wit and influence. Was this bitterest of blows to fall upon him when he
was already down? He looked at his hands, green from loss of blood. "I
tried," he muttered, "I tried."

Still the very touch of the paper seemed to have something warm and
heartening in it. It was from _her_, anyhow. With sudden strength he tore
it open and read:

Dearest, Dearest Jim--I yield the whole case. You are right.

It is to my shame that clear-sightedness came from no source within
me, but from a brave example set.

My little cousin married the man she loved last week, and, of
course, Miss Anne was a high functionary.

Oh, what a stirring there was in me, Jim, watching them and thinking
of you!

They will be as poor as church mice, but they do not care,