"Yes, he's been around here ever since we came." "Oh! I'm so sorry! Why didn't you let me see him?" "Well, we didn't think any good would come of it, sir. Hite won't let him go hungry if he can help it, and he can now. We haven't eaten half the grub we brought." Thayor stood for a moment in deep thought, reached down into his pocket and took from it a roll of bills. "Hand this to Holt, Billy, and tell him to give it to the poor fellow from me." CHAPTER SIX When Blakeman opened the steel grille for his master at an early hour the day following, the thought uppermost in his mind was the change in Thayor's appearance. He saw at a glance that the wilderness had put a firmness into his step and a heartiness in his voice, as well as a healthy colour in his cheeks, such as he had not seen in him for years. He would gladly have sacrificed his month's salary to have been with him, and more than once during his absence had he gone to his room, finding a certain consolation even in looking for rust spots on his favourite gun. With the casting off of his heavy travelling coat and hat, Thayor's first words were of his daughter. "And how is Miss Margaret?" he asked, as Blakeman followed him upstairs with his gun and great-coat. Dr. Sperry's villainous verdict still rankled in the butler's mind, and at first he had half decided to tell Thayor all he had overheard in the teakwood room. Then the pain it would give his master restrained him. "Miss Margaret is quite well, sir," he returned in the unctious, calm voice he assumed in service. "Ah, that's good. She's asleep, I suppose, at this hour." "I presume so, sir, as she was out rather late last night. I beg pardon, sir, but might I ask if you have had good luck?" "Well, I managed to kill a fine buck, Blakeman," returned his master, as he continued up the stairs. "Did you, indeed, sir!" exclaimed Blakeman, his face lighting up. "Well, I'm happy to hear it, sir--I am, indeed. A full blue-coat, sir, I dare say." "Yes, and a splendid set of horns." They had reached the broad corridor leading to his wife's bedroom, Blakeman continuing up to Thayor's room with his traps. Thayor stepped briskly to Alice's door and knocked, then stood there waiting for her response, keyed up for the scene he knew would ensue the moment he crossed the threshold. The next instant, in response to her voice, he opened the door and entered. To his amazement Alice raised her eyes to his and smiled. "So you're back," she laughed, re-tying a ribbon at her throat. "Yes," he replied, closing the door and drawing a chair mechanically to her bedside. "Yes, I'm back and I've had a good time, dear." In spite of her disarming welcome he could not dispel a lingering distrust of her sincerity. "How do I look?" he added. She leaned toward him, her head pillowed on her hand, and regarded him intently, a smile playing about the corners of her mouth. Again he searched for the truth in her eyes, and again he was baffled.