Jane's eyes swept both her husband and old Sam Taber who was sitting quietly on the teetery straight-backed chair, his gray eyes never moving from Biddy. "I'm sick and ashamed at the way things have gone," Jane said. "Last night I saw my daughter come home and walk across this room without need of the brace that had become the horror of my dreams. I saw her made whole and beautiful by some miracle beyond my knowledge and I wanted only to get down on my knees and thank God. I knew only happiness all the long night and then I awoke to--" Jane swept her hand hopelessly, "--to this. A snarling mob. A near murder. A town suddenly filled with hate and a love of lawlessness. Biddy saw none of this and yet she knows that this healer of hers--real or imaginary--would not be thanked for what he did but probably murdered. She knows this and I love her for it." Jane drew Biddy close. "Don't tell them, dear. Don't ever tell them a thing." Dan Parker stood open-mouthed at his wife's long declaration. Sam Taber got to his feet and his eyes held only admiration. He said, "I understand, Jane. And I agree with you it would be like turning a sheep to a pack of wolves." "Thank you." Sam stood looking thoughtfully at his hat as he turned it slowly in his fingers. "Just one thing," he said suddenly. "Would you mind if I examined Biddy's leg?" Jane was surprised at the sudden turn of his mind but she said, "No, of course not, Sam." Sam Taber dropped to his knees as Jane slipped off Biddy's little slacks revealing a pair of tight white panties and two perfect legs. Sam raised the left leg gently, like a holy relic and ran gentle fingers down the straight, smooth surface. "The main damage was done above the knee, wasn't it?" Sam asked. "Yes, the muscles were pinched and destroyed. There was only the bone left--and enough ligament to--" "Davey's is that way too," Sam said. "But his goes even higher--into the hip." Sam matched the legs gently together and muttered, "I'm trying to believe. I'm trying so damned hard--" "You shouldn't have to believe, Sam," Jane said. He looked up at her dully. "No?" "No, because Davey is your boy." "Yes--that's true." "And when one comes to the end of belief there is faith to carry one further." * * * * * Sam got slowly to his feet and now seemed suddenly weary. He spoke softly as though to himself. "I should not need faith. After all, I've put my finger in the wound--" He looked at Biddy with his characteristic suddenness. "Biddy-baby--perhaps your friend in the ridges--maybe he would--" Sam stopped, floundering--suddenly out of his depth. All his life he had been a proud man; never in his life had he asked anyone for a favor and even though it was for Davey, he did not know the process of asking.