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"I—didn't—come—back—my—se'f—they—brought—me—"

The effort produced beads of sweat on his forehead.

Nessie cried, "Oh, Abner, dear, don't try to talk!"

And the men said, "He's gittin' all right now."

Mr. Belshue invited with a pinched-looking face, "You can let him stay here till he's all right. Have they caught the man who shot him?"

The men didn't know. They had caught Tim Fraley, but Tim's gun hadn't been fired.

Mr. Pratt reiterated his offer to get a motor for the sick man, when one of the workmen who had wandered out on the big piazza shouted, "Here they come now, Beatrice Belle an' her mammy in her car. I guess they telephoned to Lanesburg from the camp."

Abner was sufficiently recovered to make a movement to sit up on the edge of the bed. Nessie helped him and so did Mr. Pratt.

At the same time everybody began persuading at once, "You needn't go home now, Abner; stay here till you're all right." Even Mr. Belshue offered his home for Abner's convenience.

But as Abner's wits and strength rapidly returned he recalled the jeweller ordering him off the plantation, and that is an unforgivable insult in the hills. He could sit up quite well now, and he said with a kind of stolid politeness, "Much oblige' to ye, but I'll be gittin' on. Yes, much oblige', but I'll be gittin' on. I don't want to put you out any."

Nessie was so unstrung that she began weeping at this dull formal refusal of all her favours. The young mother felt if she could only keep Abner in her house and nurse him and dress his wound she would be ecstatically happy. But Abner would go, and presently he was up again; Pratt at one arm, a workman at the other, and Nessie behind him blinking back her tears. They began a fairly steady progression to the front door.

When the group reached the piazza, they saw Beatrice