Hetty was unconscious, and had her head pillowed in the crook of one arm. Often so had Lafe seen her lying asleep, on tiptoeing into the room when returned from distant parts of the range. "Here," Bob grunted. "Give me her legs. Help with the shoulders, Dan." "I'll take 'em myself," Lafe said fiercely. We lifted her very slowly and tenderly, and started back. Twice were we obliged to set our burden down and rest, but we managed to carry her back to the house. As we were placing her on the bed, Hetty revived and opened her eyes. "Get away," she said fretfully to her husband. "You're always smelling of that tobacco. Get away. You make me tired." "Hetty," Lafe whispered, groping for her hand. "What're you looking so scared about?" his wife asked. "Leave me be, now. I hate you." "Better get out," I cautioned. "Go and fetch Armstrong." A few minutes later we heard the rattle of his horse's hoofs, going at full speed towards Badger. He had saddled a fresh mount. And we composed ourselves there in chairs beside the bed, to wait--listening to Hetty's moans when she would rouse from the semi-trance which held her. Never had I felt so helpless and so wholly wretched. "Tut-tut," said Dr. Armstrong, when knocked up from bed. "Keep your shirt on, man. It isn't the first time in the history of the world, nor the last, I take it. She's a strong woman. Brace up." Nevertheless, he made all speed, and although three score years had beaten over his rugged head, he never once complained during the long ride. Johnson went at a gallop, with brief, impatient periods of dogtrotting to breathe their horses. They covered the fourteen miles in fifty-seven minutes, and it was not much after one o'clock when they clattered up to the door. Lafe would have pushed into the room had not the doctor thrust him back. At the same time Hetty turned in the bed and cried petulantly that she would not have him near. "Out you go," he ordered, "do you hear me? Don't go whining round here. That's nothing unusual." The husband demurred, but Armstrong shoved him outside. As he was passing from the room, the doctor said to him over his shoulder in a tone of intense joy--the joy of the born physician in a fair fight against the Enemy: "She's liable to swear at you in a minute. Does she know how to swear? I've heard some of 'em cuss me everything they could lay their tongues to." It was almost a chortle he emitted, but he was solemn enough before Lafe had closed the door.