"Well, you know," he said carefully, "a scorpion sting may or may not
be serious. People have died of them. Mrs. Jack here makes no more of
them than of a mosquito bite, while Jack goes about like a drunken
sailor with one for a day, then forgets it. Miss Tuttle will be all
right when she wakes up. I'm off till dinner time, Mrs. Jack. Jack
will think I've reverted!"

DeWitt stood for a moment watching the tall, lithe figure move through
the peach-trees. He was torn by a strange feeling, half of aversion,
half of charm for the dark young stranger. Then:

"Hold on, Cartwell," he cried. "I'll drive you back in the buckboard."

Katherine Newman, looking after the two, raised her eyebrows, shook her
head, then smiled and went back to Rhoda.

It was mid-afternoon when Rhoda woke. Katherine was sitting near by
with her sewing.

"Well!" said Rhoda wonderingly. "I'm all right, after all!"

Katherine jumped up and took Rhoda's thin little hand joyfully.

"Indeed you are!" she cried. "Thanks to Kut-le!"

"Thanks to whom?" asked Rhoda. "It was a tall young man. He said his
name was Charley Cartwell."

"Yup!" answered Katherine. "Charley Cartwell! His other name is
Kut-le. He'll be in to dinner with Jack, tonight. Isn't he