"I think I had," Weston answered, not waiting for the physician to
interpose any order. "I get tuckered out pretty easily these days,
with this confounded bullet-hole in me--but stay a moment, Tim.
They've got a letter from me at the office by this time. It may
surprise them; it may surprise you, but I wanted you to know I'd fixed
it all right for you, my boy. I did it for Edith's sake."

Tim, with face flushed and hands outstretched in protest, arose from
his chair and went to the bedside.

"But don't you see it's all a joke," he cried. "I can't take it.
Won't you believe me this time? There isn't any Edith!"

"I knew that long ago, Tim," Weston answered quietly. "But there may
be some day."

He turned his back to us.

"Please go," he said brusquely. "I want to rest. Don't stand over me
that way, Tim. Why, you look like little Colonel!"

* * * * * *

At the school-house door Tim halted suddenly.

"I'm going back, Mark," he whispered, "just for a minute. Weston will
think I'm a fraud and I want to tell him something. Now that the
others have left I may have a chance. Confound these kind-hearted
women that overrun the house! Why, a fellow couldn't say a word
without a dozen ears to hear it."