Meanwhile Pearl had continued the search for Mrs. Cavers and Libby Anne. She was on her way to Mrs. Burrell's when she caught sight of something like a parasol down in the trees where the horses were tied. She ran down to the picnic grounds hastily, and there, in a grassy hollow, shaded by a big elm, she found the objects of her search. Bill Cavers, with purple face and wide open mouth, lay breathing heavily. Libby Anne was fanning him with her muslin hat, and Mrs. Cavers was tenderly bathing his swollen face with water Libby Anne had brought from the river. Her own eyes were red with crying and hopeless with defeat. "We've just found him, Pearl," she said. "He's been here in the hot sun I don't know how long. I never saw him breathing so queer before." "I'll get the doctor," said Pearl. She ran back up the road and found the doctor talking to Sandy Braden, at the stable behind the hotel. "Come on, Doctor!" Pearl cried breathlessly. "I found them. You come, too"--to, Mr. Braden--"it will take you both to carry him." Sandy Braden hesitated, but there was something in Pearl's compelling eyes that made him follow her. They reached the grassy slope. Mrs. Cavers had made a pillow of her coat for his head, and was still bathing his face. The doctor hastily loosened the drunken man's clothing and listened to the beating of his heart. Its irregular pounding was unmistakable, it was making its last great fight. Dr. Clay took out his hypodermic syringe and made an injection in Bill's arm. Bill stirred uneasily. "I don't--want--it--Bob," he said thickly. "I promised--the--missus. She's--with me--to-day." Sandy Braden endeavoured to quiet Mrs. Cavers's fears. "It's the heat, Mrs. Cavers," he said; "but it'll soon wear off--he'll be all right soon, won't he, Doc?" The doctor made no reply, but listened again to the sick man's heart. It was failing. Mrs. Cavers, looking up, read the doctor's face. She fell on the ground beside her husband, calling him every tender name as she rained kisses on his livid cheeks, uttering queer little cries like a wounded animal, but begging him always to live for her sake, and crying out bitterly that she could not give him up. Sandy Braden, who had often seen men paralyzed with liquor, gently tried to take her away, assuring, her again that he would be all right soon. She noticed then for the first time who it was who had come with the doctor, and shaking off his hand, she sprang up and faced him, with blazing eyes that scorched into his very soul. Sandy Braden put up his hand as if to ward off her fury. Bill moved his lips, and she knelt beside him once more, her thin gray hair falling over her shoulders. The sick man gazed into her face, and a look of understanding came into his bloodshot eyes.