And at the beginning of the fourth day, when he opened his eyes and stared wonderingly about the room, his gaze at first resting upon the doctor, and then traveling to the girl’s face, and remaining there for a long time, while a faint smile wreathed his lips, the girl’s heart beat high with delight. “Well, I’m still a going it,” he said weakly. “I remember,” he went on, musingly. “When they was handing it to me, I was thinking that I was in pretty bad shape. And then they must have handed it to me some more, for I quit thinking at all. I’m going to pull through—ain’t I?” “You are!” declared the doctor. “That is,” he amended, “if you keep your trap shut and do a lot of sleeping.” “For which I’m going to have a lot of time,” smiled Taylor. “I’m going to sleep, for I feel mighty like sleeping. But before I do any sleeping, there’s a thing I want to know. Did Carrington’s men—the last two—get away, or did I——” “You did,” grinned the doctor. “Bothwell rode over there to find out—and Mullarky saw them. Mullarky brought you back—and got me.” “Carrington?” inquired the patient. “Mullarky saw him. He says he never saw a man so beat up in his life. Besides, you shot him, too—in the side. Not dangerous, but a heap painful.” Taylor smiled and looked at Miss Harlan. “I knew you were here,” he said; “I’ve felt you near me. It was mighty comforting, and I want to thank you for it. There were times when I must have shot off my mouth a heap. If I said anything I shouldn’t have said, I’m a whole lot sorry. And I’m asking your pardon.” “You didn’t,” she said, her eyes eloquent with joy over the improvement in him. “Well, then, I’m going to sleep.” He raised his right hand—his good one—and waved it gayly at them—and closed his eyes. CHAPTER XXIII—A WORLD-OLD LONGING Looking back upon the long period of Taylor’s convalescence, Marion Harlan could easily understand why she had surrendered to the patient. In the first place, she had liked Taylor from the very beginning—even when she had affected to ridicule him on the train coming toward Dawes. She had known all along that she had liked him, and on that morning when she had visited the Arrow to ask about her father Taylor had woven a magnetic spell about her. That meeting and the succeeding ones had merely strengthened her liking for him. But the inevitable intimacy between nurse and patient during several long weeks of convalescence had wrought havoc with her heart.