"I have told you before," said the doctor, "that there are phases of this case which I do not understand. I predict nothing with certainty. But I very much fear that if your father falls into a complete slumber he will never waken from it. Once let his brain cease functioning and I fear that the heart will follow suit." They stood on the farther side of the room and spoke in the softest of whispers, but now the deep, calm voice of the old man broke in: "Doc, they ain't no use of worryin'. They ain't no use of medicine. All I need is quiet." "Do you want to be alone?" asked the girl. "No, not so long as you don't make no noise. I can 'most hear something, but your whisperin' shuts it off." They obeyed him, with a glance at each other. And soon they caught the far off beat of a horse in a rapid gallop. "Is it that?" cried Kate, leaning forward and touching her father's hand. "Is that horse what you hear?" "No, no!" he answered impatiently. "That ain't what I hear. It ain't no hoss that I hear!" The hoof-beats grew louder--stopped before the house--steps sounded loud and rattling on the veranda--a door squeaked and slammed--and Buck Daniels stood before them. His hat was jammed down so far that his eyes were almost buried in the shadow of the brim; the bandana at his throat was twisted so that the knot lay over his right shoulder; he carried a heavy quirt in a hand that trembled so that the long lash seemed alive; a thousand bits of foam had dried upon his vest and stained it; the rowels of his spurs were caked and enmeshed with horsehair; dust covered his face and sweat furrowed it, and a keen scent of horse-sweat passed from him through the room. For a moment he stood at the door, bracing himself with legs spread wide apart, and stared wildly about--then he reeled drunkenly across the room and fell into a chair, sprawling at full length. No one else moved. Joe Cumberland had turned his head; Kate stood with her hand at her throat; the doctor had placed his hand behind his head, and there it stayed. "Gimme smoke--quick!" said Buck Daniels. "Run out of Durham a thousan' years ago!" Kate ran into the next room and returned instantly with papers and a fresh sack of tobacco. On these materials Buck seized frantically, but his big fingers were shaking in a palsy, and the papers tore, one after another, as soon as he started to roll his smoke. "God!" he cried, in a burst of childish desperation, and collapsed again in the chair. But Kate Cumberland picked up the papers and tobacco which he had dashed to the floor and rolled a cigarette with deft fingers. She placed it between his lips and held the match by which he lighted it. Once, twice, and again, he drew great breaths of smoke into his lungs, and then he could open his eyes and look at them. They were not easy eyes to meet. "You're hungry, Buck," she said. "I can see it at a glance. I'll have something for you in an instant." He stopped her with a gesture.