"You couldn't do more," he said, staring hard at her, giving the impression that his mind was not on what he was saying. "More for me or more for ... a carcass like that." A tremor of anger was in his voice, and resentment showed in his expression as he turned to look at the covered face of the heavily breathing man. "It's a shame, Miss, to make your kind come under the same roof with a ... a thing like he is!" After a moment she asked, "Is he so very bad, then?" "As bad as men get ... and the best of us are awful sinful." "Do you ... do you think men ever get so bad that anyone can be hurt by being ... by coming under the same roof with them?" He shook his head and smiled again. "I'd say yes, if it wasn't that I'd picked this _hombre_ out of th' ditch an' brought him here an' played doctor to-night. You never can tell what you'll believe until the time comes when you've got to believe something." A silent interval, which the woman broke. "Is there anything else I can do for you now?" He knew that she wanted to go, yet some quality about her made him suspect that she wanted to stay on, too. "No, Miss, nothin' ..." he answered. "I've got to go tend to my horse. He's such a baby that he won't leave his tracks for anybody so long's he knows I'm here, so I can't send anybody else to look after him. But you've done enough. I'll wait a while till somebody else comes along to watch--" "No, no! let me stay here ... with him." "But--" "I came here to help you. Won't you let me go through with it?" He thought again that it was her pride forcing her on; he could not know that the prompting in her was something far deeper, something tragic. He said: "Why if you want to, of course you can. I won't be gone but a minute. I've let up on this pressure a little; we'll keep letting up on it gradual ... I've done this thing before. He's got to be watched, though, so he don't pull the bandages off and start her bleeding again." The woman seated herself on the chair as he turned to go. "It'll only be a minute," he assured her again, hesitating in the doorway. "I wouldn't go at all, only, when my horse is the kind of a pal he is, I can't let him go hungry. See?" "I see," she said, but her tone implied that she did not, that such devotion between man and beast was quite incomprehensible ... or else that she had given his word no heed at all, had only waited impatiently for him to go. He strode down the hallway and she marked his every footfall, heard him go stumping and ringing down the stairs two at a time, heard him leave the porch and held her breath to hear him say, "Well, Old Timer, I didn't plan to be so long." Then, the sound of shod hoofs crossing the street at a gallop. She closed her eyes and let her head bow slowly and whispered, "Oh, God ... there _is_ manhood left!"