"I've got to go to the poor children." "Wait, Penelope." Jeb gripped the girl's arm, and lowered his voice. "This is the start," he said mysteriously. "But it ain't the finish. Bryant is fixin' tuh wear a shroud, too." Chapter IX BRYANT TALKS The wounded man in the cave sat with his back propped against the rocky wall, fully conscious and aware of his surroundings. For the first time in nearly forty-eight hours he was able to think clearly. Beside him there was a health-giving broth, and a sort of biscuit made by Tonto. The food was calculated to make rich blood and new strength in the shortest possible time. The Texan had slept fitfully during the day, sipping the broth and nibbling food each time he wakened. Now, feeling well rested, he tried to piece the events of the past two days together. Most of the time was vague to him. He remembered that it had been night when he'd crawled, wounded, to the ledge after seeing Silver desert him. Morning light revealed the cave into which he had crept with his torment of pain. Tonto must have found him then, though he could recollect nothing of the Indian's bandaging his shoulder. Most of that day, yesterday, he'd slept. Then, at sunset, Tonto had returned with food and herbs to dress his injuries. He couldn't remember much of what happened after that, but there were faint recollections of the Indian's crude but nonetheless effective surgery, followed by applications of various sorts. Tonto had been with him all night, plying the skill of the Indian in combating illness. He remembered trying to ask Tonto what had become of Silver, but the Indian had said something about waiting till he was stronger before talking. Then Tonto had left and the wounded man had slept. Now, at sunset, the Indian was due to return. The Texan examined the food near him and wondered where it came from. It wasn't wild turkey that might have been shot by Tonto, neither was it game that might have been found in the woods. Tonto must have friends close by who supplied that food. A little while ago, the Ranger had heard sounds that might have been shots, but they were far away. He couldn't yet have implicit faith in all his senses. Now he heard what he thought might be hoofbeats, but again he wasn't sure. He waited, and the sound came nearer. In a moment more there could be no doubt about the rhythmic tattoo on the rocks in the Gap. Horses, two at least, came close and stopped. A moment later Tonto entered the cave. The Indian looked gratified when he saw that color had returned to the face of the Texan. He examined the wounded shoulder critically, and announced that the infection had gone down considerably and that now there was no longer any doubt about the Ranger's full recovery. "Me leave camp on mountain," the Indian explained. "Fetch um Silver here." "Silver?"