“Good. I'll tell you what. I'll take you in along with the girl, an' hide both of you till you get well. It'll be safe. My nearest neighbor is five miles off. We don't have much company.” “You risk a great deal. Both outlaws and rangers are hunting me,” said Duane. “Never seen a ranger yet in these parts. An' have always got along with outlaws, mebbe exceptin' Bland. I tell you I owe you a good turn.” “My horses might betray you,” added Duane. “I'll hide them in a place where there's water an' grass. Nobody goes to it. Come now, let me help you indoors.” Duane's last fading sensations of that hard day were the strange feel of a bed, a relief at the removal of his heavy boots, and of Jennie's soft, cool hands on his hot face. He lay ill for three weeks before he began to mend, and it was another week then before he could walk out a little in the dusk of the evenings. After that his strength returned rapidly. And it was only at the end of this long siege that he recovered his spirits. During most of his illness he had been silent, moody. “Jennie, I'll be riding off soon,” he said, one evening. “I can't impose on this good man Andrews much longer. I'll never forget his kindness. His wife, too--she's been so good to us. Yes, Jennie, you and I will have to say good-by very soon.” “Don't hurry away,” she replied. Lately Jennie had appeared strange to him. She had changed from the girl he used to see at Mrs. Bland's house. He took her reluctance to say good-by as another indication of her regret that he must go back to the brakes. Yet somehow it made him observe her more closely. She wore a plain, white dress made from material Mrs. Andrews had given her. Sleep and good food had improved her. If she had been pretty out there in the outlaw den now she was more than that. But she had the same paleness, the same strained look, the same dark eyes full of haunting shadows. After Duane's realization of the change in her he watched her more, with a growing certainty that he would be sorry not to see her again. “It's likely we won't ever see each other again,” he said. “That's strange to think of. We've been through some hard days, and I seem to have known you a long time.” Jennie appeared shy, almost sad, so Duane changed the subject to something less personal. Andrews returned one evening from a several days' trip to Huntsville.