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Show By the next day she was so much better that the doctor declared her out of danger time alone being all that was necessary to bring her well. In the serene evening the sun peeped under the porch roof for one last look before reluctantly passing on to less Interesting scenes beyond the gates of the west; fell in at the open parlor window; crossed the floor and 'Just missed the big old-fashioned sofa, soft and cozy with blankets, where the wowlsman had carried the girl In his great arms, the wonderful landscape of lawn and bottoms and winding river spreading before her. The woodsman himself sat on a low footstool at her side. The room had settled still. From the kitchen came the low drone of voices where Mrs. Curry and Aunt Liza sat by the cook stove. A tall old clock in a corner of the parlor taller than the woodsman himself, with a peasant man and maid on the face raking hay punctuated the silence si-lence into a sort of drowsy rhythm. The girl was so still that he thought she slept. Glancing around at her, he was amazed to see her eyes full of tears. "V"y what's the matter V "Nothing I" Her lips quivered; she turned her face away and cried silently. He picked up her hand; attempted a comforting com-forting word. The sprawled dead figure fig-ure In the old cabin crossed his mind the brother In whom she still believed be-lieved ; whose death she still mourned; of whose degradation and deep dishonor dis-honor she was haply spared from ever knowing and the attempt failed. She turned back to him after a time, brushed away the tears and a brave suggestion of the smile that made her eyes so wonderful brightened them. "Ain't it Jlst terrible f'r me t' cry like this, when y'u're all a' good to mel" lie hitched the footstool closer to the sofa. It surprised him to feel a queer weakness In his breast and a tightness in his throat when he tried to speak. "Do y'u think y'u're strong enough t' talk some?" "W'y, I could git up a'most." A sudden thoughtfulness displaced the smile. "Do y'u remember that letter y'u give me from Pap Simons las' Sat-urd'y?" Sat-urd'y?" The girl raised her eyes. "T be opened the day you're twenty-one I've wondered and wondered what was In It." He looked down at the floor ; looked up again. "This Is the day." "No 1" "I'm twenty-one t'day and" free, he was about to say, but didn't. "Is It possible It's only be'n six days sence " "Six days," was his slow comment som In her hand ; the color of retur leg health tingled Into her cheeks. "The one you found that day," ih stammered. She lifted a tiny glanc up to him from under her long lashes; let her eyes stray far oat across ths bottoms toward Alpine Island. "Pore-Ken "Pore-Ken ! Hopkins met me up the road and told me he was sick on the bout, I didn't know Hopkins then." I "I did and I knowed Brickbat alley. al-ley. That's why I rode after y'u the minute I got y'ur note. Hopkins was s bad man, but we've already talked about him, and what b'come of him. All that money he stol'd I tuck away from 'Im at the parsonage the evening of the funeral, and drove 'lm out o' Flatwoods. That's why he went, and all that stuff he told y'u about Ken was Jist lies. I've got all that money hid, and we'll put it back In the safe as soon as you're able t' open It." The eyes came back from the distant point where Alpine island split the silver sil-ver rim of the bottoms. "I know now that what he said was all lies, but I didn't then. As soon as I got on the boat I saw Ken wasn't there, but Hopkins locked the door and wouldn't let me off. And such a cabin as that house-boat had tight as a Jail. He made all the apologies a man could f'r raisin' false hopes about Ken, and told me he'd done it all fr my own good. Then he told me there was two men plannin' to rob the safe that night and he'd brung me on the boat t' git me out o' danger." She paused; looked at the man; went on. "He said he was goin' t' git you t' he'p 'im and you'd both watch the house, and after the danger was over you'd come and bring me home. He said one o' the robbers would be Slim Finger Doolin, the most dangerous pistol pis-tol lighter in the world. I asked 'lm how 'e found it all out not knowln' then that he 'imself was Slim Finger Doolin but he said he'd rather tell me all about it next day. From that minute I was afear'd of him, though he was as polite and respectful to me as 'e could be, short of lettln' me go." She felt the eyes of the woodsman upon her. He looked away and she went on. "From that minute I mistrusted he was one o' the robbers, though I never let on, and as soon as he was gone I tried all I could t' git out. I waa afear'd" she looked down at the blanket; blan-ket; crumpled a corner of It hard in her fingers "you might chance t' hear 'em, and I knowed If y'u did you'd fight, and I was half wild fr fear they'd kill y'u. Oh, if I'd only knowed it was you that moved the boatl Jack why didn't y'u let me out I" The man stared at the floor and twisted his great hands till the knuckles turned white. "G d I" he groaned "if I only had I But I thought you'd be safest there. It was the worst mistake I ever made In my life that and lettin' Hopklna preach Pap Simon's funeral, but I didn't have no good proof on 'im then." The girl glanced at his bowed form. The tick of the tall old clock in the corner throbbed loud on the silence ; through the open window came the call of crows flying home. "It was away in the night," the girl went on at last, thoughtful and slow, "b'j'ore I fin'ly got out by beatin' a hole in the roof with a stove leg, swum ashore and run home as fast as I could. I'd Jist got in the yard wheu I saw you a-standin' there by the winder. Then come that shot and I thought Slim Finger Fin-ger Doolin had killed y'u. I don't know what happened after that " "After that," the man echoed, his voice low and broken, "we've all be'n tryin' to coax the bravest and most wonderful girl in the world back to life." "Life !" she murmured, as If the word came new and strange to her after being so fearfully close to death. "Oh, I want so much t' have it all back ag'in " "And y'u shall have it back!" the man cried, catching the appeal In her voice. "You've got it now. Every breath brings the woods and hills, the 1 The Red 1 I Lock I A Tale of the Flatwoodj I I By DAVID ANDERSON j Author of m " Thm lilu Moon " a i i Illustrations by IRWIN MYERS . "" """""""'"""""''""""""a"a"e"" Copyright by The Bobbs-Merrill Co. CHAPTER XX 26 Search of the Languid Eyes. All through the long and terrible flay following that tragic night, the angels an-gels of life and death waged their grim struggle In the parlor bedroom, where the hapless sufferer writhed In the delirium de-lirium that followed thehock of her wound. Toward evening Aunt Eliza, believing believ-ing with the others that the end was near, beckoned the woodsman to the bedside. It fairly staggered him to see the frightful change the hours had wrought. Under an Impulse of pity that he could not resist he bent over the bed, caught up her hands and spoke her name. She Instantly grew more quiet and turned her face toward his voice. The doctor was quick to notice this, and nt his direction Jack dropped on his knees by the bedside and began talking to her, softly stroking her hands and wrists and face the while; and as he talked sho grew calmer. Hour after hour the man knelt and crooned the story of their playmate days, while the doctor plied his utmost rt and the women lavished their care. Late that night she seemed to quiet away Into a light sleep. A smile struggled strug-gled out upon the doctor's grim feat-tires feat-tires and he went out Into the yard for e moment of relaxation. The woodsman woods-man laid the girl's hands down upon the covers, rose to his feet, stumbled out to the kitchen and dropped down on a chair by ihe cook stove. Barely a minute after. Aunt Liza, sleepless and faithful, tapped him on the shoulder. "She's frettln ag'in." He sprang up and hurried to the sick-room. But before he reached the bedside her tossing had ceased and she lay back against the pillow still and white. He caught up her hands ; they were so cold it startled him. At that moment the doctor came back In. The Instant he entered the room the unusual stillness or the Instinct In-stinct of his profession must have warned him that something was amiss, for he hurried to the bedside and bent a keen look upon the patient. "Her han's are like ice," the woodsman woods-man faltered. "She's sinking fast," was the doctor's nnswer, as he made ready a powerful stimulant. "Rub her hands and wrists end temples rub toward the heart itnd try to call her back with some more of that Black rock and Whispering Whisper-ing spring talk. And be quick with those hot cloths, you women. If we can only keep breath in her for the next hour " ' The woodsman, tolling with gray and graven face, was the first to notice the clamminess leaving her hands and a faint tinge of color beginning to drive the chill out of her fingers. The doctor doc-tor bent low over her, noted the respiration, respi-ration, took her pulse again. "She's got a chance," he muttered. "Keep on with that talk, Warhope, and rub her wrists and temples and come on with more hot cloths, the rest of you." Nearly an hour had gone when the girl's lids fluttered apart and the brilliant bril-liant eyes strayed open weak, haggard, hag-gard, but no longer wild and vacant with delirium. Slowly the eyes traveled over the room, a languid questioning in them ; searched the faces about her; dwelt at last upon the face of the woodsman. woods-man. "Jack" it was only a whisper, fluttering flut-tering out upon the labored breath, but it was the sweetest sound his ears had ever heard "he didn't kill y'u " He dropped on one knee by the bedside, bed-side, but dared not trust his voice with a word. "Jack what what ?" "You've be'n sick bad and we're all tryin' t' coax y'u back well. When y'u git strong, we'll have a long talk you and me but now, won't y'u Jist try t' go t' sleep? Won't y'u?" "Yes," she whispered, like a trusting trust-ing child "I'm so tired " One hand stole across the covers and hunted his; the long lashes drooped over the languid eyes and she slipped away to sleep. The others tiptoed tip-toed from the room. "What she needs above everything," muttered the doctor, softly closing the door "sleep it will do her more good right now than all the medicine In the world." And there Jack crouched himself bruised and worn afraid to move with her hands in his, lest she start wake and so lose one moment of the rest Just then precious beyond calculation. calcula-tion. Only a man of his superb physical phy-sical powers could have held the cramped, uncomfortable pose so long. Several times one of the women, and once the doctor, softly opened the door and peeped In, out they as often closed It axeln and left the man to his filial vlgU. MM' sunshine and flowers, jist that much nearer w'y, you're as good as well this very minute." The smile in her eyes came allva again, stole out over her face and brought back a heartening suggestion of the dimples. By some intangible bridge all unseen of human eyes, the smile found its way across to the man's grave and serious seri-ous face; kindled it like the glint oj morning upon the front of Black rock. He picked up her hand ; touched the faded orchid in her palm. "I 'low y'u ain't frgot the day we I found it " He felt the twitch of her fingers. "I tried t' ask y'u t' promise me that day I'm askin' y'u t' promise me now " It was the biggest word he had ever said in his life. Much like a man who had committed a crime and awaited his sentence, he raised his head ; ventured ven-tured a glance at the girl. Something very wonderful had come to her face like the birth of morning; and her eyes like star trails a marvelous mar-velous transfiguration that only one tiling in the world can bring. He slipped from the footstool and knelt down by her side ; her arm came up off the blanket and hunted Its way across his massive shoulders. The peasant man and maid on th face of the old clock in the corner smiled, raking hay. THE END. It Was the Biggest Word He Had Ever Said in His Life. "Don't seem like s' much could happen hap-pen in six days hardly " He fumbled In his blouse; took out the letter in its formidable envelope; held It toward her. She took it and, glancing over It, handed it back. He tore it open and drew out its contents. Wide-eyed, they read It through a title deed In fee simple to the War-hope War-hope homestead, together with all stock and betterments and growing crops thereon, duly conveyed and executed exe-cuted to Jack Warhope; and, folded Inside the deed, a bank draft In his favor for ten thousand dollars. The man stared at the girl ; the girl stared at the man. "I'm b'llevln' Pap Simon meant f do this all along," he mused at last. "I can see it now, as I look back. That's why he was s' good to me. Meb-be" Meb-be" he hesitated, "that's why he had me bound " "Pore father!" the girl's eyes strayed away to where the silver contour con-tour of the river rimmed the bottoms "it was his way." He let loose the deed, leaving It in her hand. She turned back from the silver-rimmed bottoms and gianced it over again. "W'y, It was made out only last Friday Fri-day he never knowed it, but that was lady-slipper day and so he made It a big day after all" Very slowly, with the tightness still at his throat, the woodsman took out his pocketbook and laid a flattened yellow yel-low orchid in the girl's palm. "I found It there at the edge of Med haul, where you got on the house-boat." The girl fumbled the flattened blotv |