"We'll wait an' see if he pulls through this, an' then we'll find out
if he can be cured o' desert-rattin'. In the meantime I'll wait here
until Doc gets back. I ain't one of the presumin' kind, but I think I'd
better stay. An' you--I think you'd better go in an' have another good
look at this Desert Rat o' yours. He's breathin' like the north wind
sighin' through a knot-hole."

He watched her disappear.

"For the sight o' a good woman, O Lord, we thank Thee," he murmured,
"an' for the sight o' a good woman with grit, we thank Thee some more.
Great grief, why wasn't I born good an' good-lookin' 'stead o' fat an'
no account?"

At ten o'clock Doc Taylor returned to the Hat Ranch and found the
condition of his patient unchanged. He was still unconscious and his
loud, stertorous breathing, coupled with the ghastly exhaust of air
through the hole on his breast, testified to the seriousness of his
condition. Throughout the night Donna sat by the bedside watching him,
while the doctor remained in the kitchen with Mr. Hennage.

Toward morning Bob McGraw opened his eyes and looked at Donna very
wonderingly. Then his glance wandered around the room and back to the
girl. He was plainly puzzled.

"Where's my horse," he whispered, "and my spurs and my gun and hat?"

Donna bent over him and placed two cool fingers on his lips.

"The hemorrhage has stopped," she warned him, "and you mustn't speak or