sick, and he knew it. He realized that he ought
to be in bed. And he wanted to be in bed. But
already he had suffered too much, lying inert,
not because of his arm and the fever upon him,
though these were almost unbearable, but because
of the haunting fear, come to him ever more
insistently with each passing day, that since Pat
had escaped from him twice thus far, he was
destined to escape from him a third time. Sometimes
this fear took shape in visions of a blazing
fire in the stable, in which Pat was burned to a
crisp; again it took form in some malady peculiar
to horses which would prove equally disastrous.
At last, unable to withstand these pictures longer,
he had crept out of bed, dressed as best he could,
and stolen out of the house, bent upon getting Pat
to the railroad, and there shipping him east to
Helen at whatever cost to himself. So here he
was, about to ride off.

"You're -- you're mighty decent," he repeated,
hollowly, by way of farewell. "But I've got to
go. And don't worry about my making the
station," he added, reassuringly. "I have the
directions, and I'll get there in time to make that
ten-thirty eastbound to-night." He clambered
painfully up into the saddle.

A third member of the group, the round-faced
and smiling cowpuncher, opened up with his
pleasing drawl.' "Why'n't you stay over till
mornin', then?" he demanded. "The rancli
wagon goes up early, and you could ride the seat
just like a well man."

[[260]]

p259 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p260w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p261

v?