Now a wild hope surged. If
he would--could speak, it seemed to her simple logic that he must--live.
"Nan!"
The word was distinct, but, oh, the weakness of voice. The girl
thrilled.
"Yes, Jeff. I'm here. I'm right beside you."
"Tell me--things."
The girl's heart sank. In a flash she remembered all there was to
tell. Why had his first thoughts on returning life been of
these--things? Yet it was like him--so like him. She drew a deep
breath and resorted to subterfuge.
"It's as Dad shouted at you just now, Jeff. You beat them
all--lone-handed. But you mustn't talk. Don't worry about them.
Guess they're not worth it. You've been shot up, Jeff, an' Dad an' I
we've just fixed you the best we know, an' the boys have gone right in
for a wagon, an' a doctor. The doc's got to get in from Moose Creek,
twenty miles away. That's what scares me."
The smile in the man's eyes had deepened.
"Don't--get--scared, Nan. I'm--not dying."
The girl thrilled at the assurance in the tired voice. But the thrill
passed as swiftly as it came.
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