The more she dwelt on this the hotter her jealous fever burned. The floor on which she lay was full of knots. She could not lose herself in sleep, tired as she was. The planks no longer turned their soft spots to her flesh, and she rolled from side to side in torment. She would have arisen and dressed only she did not care to disturb the men. The night seemed interminable. Her plan of action was simple. "I shall go home the morrow and take Wayland with me. I will not have him going with that girl--that's settled!" The very thought of his taking Siona's hand in greeting angered her beyond reason. She had put Cliff Belden completely out of her mind, and this was characteristic of her. She had no divided interests, no subtleties, no subterfuges. Forthright, hot-blooded, frank and simple, she had centered all her care, all her desires, on this pale youth whose appeal was at once mystic and maternal; but her pity was changing to something deeper, for she was convinced that he was gaining in strength, that he was in no danger of relapse. The hard trip of the day before had seemingly done him no permanent injury; on the contrary, a few hours' rest had almost restored him to his normal self. "To-morrow he will be able to ride again." And this thought reconciled her to her hard bed. She did not look beyond the long, delicious day which they must spend in returning to the Springs. She fell asleep at last, and was awakened only by her father tinkering about the stove. She rose alertly, signing to the Supervisor not to disturb her patient. However, Norcross also heard the rattle of the poker, opened his eyes and regarded Berrie with sleepy smile. "Good morning, if it _is_ morning," he said, slowly. She laughed back at him. "It's almost sunup." "You don't tell me! How could I have overslept like this? Makes me think of the Irishman who, upon being awakened to an early breakfast like this, ate it, then said to his employer, an extra thrifty farmer, 'Two suppers in wan night--and hurrah for bed again.'" This amused her greatly. "It's too bad. I hope you got some sleep?" "All there was time for." His voice changed. "I feel like a hound-pup, to be snoring on a downy couch like this while you were roughing it on the floor. How did I come to do it? It's shameful!" "Don't worry about me. How are you feeling this morning?"