Pale and motionless, Helen stood staring after the departing crowd, now almost out of view. Carson Dwight's thrilling words still rang in her ears. He had torn her very heart from her breast and held it in his hands while speaking. He had stood there like a God among mere men, pleading as she would have pleaded for that simple human life, and they had listened; they had been swept from their mad purpose by the fearless sincerity and conviction of his young soul. They had shot at him while he stood a target for their uncurbed passion, and even then he had dared to taunt them with cowardice as he continued his appeal. “Daughter, daughter!” her father on the upper floor of the veranda was calling down to her. “What is it, father?” she asked. “Do you know if Carson was hurt?” the Major asked, anxiously. “You know he said he wasn't, but it would be like him to pretend so, even if he were wounded. It may be only the excitement that is keeping him up, and the poor boy may be seriously injured.” “Oh, father, do you think--?” Helen's heart sank; a sensation like nausea came over her, and she reeled and almost fell. Sanders, a queer, white look on his face, caught hold of her arm and supported her to a seat on the veranda. She raised her eyes to the face of her escort as she sank into a chair. “Do you think--did he look like he was wounded?” “I could not make out,” Sanders answered, solicitously, and yet his lip was drawn tight and he stood quite erect. “I--I thought he was at first, but later when he continued to speak I fancied I was mistaken.” “He put his hands to his temple,” Helen said, “and almost fell. I saw him steady himself, and then he really seemed stunned for a moment.” Sanders was silent. “I remember her aunt said,” he reflected, in grim misery, his brows drawn together, “that she once had a sweetheart up here. _Is this the man?_” CHAPTER XX [Illustration: 9188] EN minutes later, while they still sat on the veranda waiting for Carson's return, they saw Dr. Stone, the Dwights' family physician, alight from his horse at the hitching-post nearby. “I wonder what that means?” the Major asked. “He must have been sent for on Carson's account and thinks he is at home. Speak to him, Lewis.” Hearing his name called, Dr. Stone approached, his medicine-case in hand. “Were you looking for Carson?” Major Warren asked. “Why, no,” answered the doctor, in surprise; “they said Mrs. Dwight was badly shocked. Was Carson really hurt?” “We were trying to find out,” said the Major. “He went on to the jail with the sheriff, determined to see Pete protected.” There was a sound of an opening door and old Dwight came out to the fence, hatless, coatless, and pale. “Come right in, doctor,” he said, grimly. “There's no time to lose.” “Is it as bad as that?” Stone asked.