objection. "It's the mother's blood that would show," she murmured, "not
this man's."

Recovering herself, she began to chafe his hands and temples, and
moistened his lips with the spirit. When his respiration returned with a
faint color to his cheeks, she pressed his hands eagerly and leaned over
him.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Of what?" he whispered faintly.

"That Low is really your son?"

"Who said so?" he asked, opening his round eyes upon her.

"You did yourself, a moment ago," she said quickly. "Don't you
remember?"

"Did I?"

"You did. Is it not so?"

He smiled faintly. "I reckon."

She held her breath in expectation. But only the ludicrousness of the
discovery seemed paramount to his weakened faculties. "Isn't it just
about the ridiculousest thing all round?" he said, with a feeble
chuckle. "First YOU nearly kill me before you know I am Low's father;
then I'm just spoilin' to kill him before I know he's my son; then that