possession and adornment of a perfect stranger, her rage knew no bounds.
He or his friends ought to be made to pay for it or work it out! In vain
it was declared that a few dollars were all that was found in the man's
pocket, and that no memoranda gave any indication of his name, friends,
or history beyond the suggestion that he came from a distance. This was
clearly a part of the conspiracy! Even Josephine's practical good
sense was obliged to take note of this singular absence of all record
regarding him, and the apparent obliteration of everything that might be
responsible for his ultimate fate.

Homeless, friendless, helpless, and even nameless, the unfortunate man
of twenty-five was thus left to the tender mercies of the mistress of
Burnt Ridge Ranch, as if he had been a new-born foundling laid at her
door. But this mere claim of weakness was not all; it was supplemented
by a singular personal appeal to Josephine's nature. From the time that
he turned his head towards her voice on that fateful night, his eyes had
always followed her around the room with a wondering, yearning, canine
half-intelligence. Without being able to convince herself that he
understood her better than his regular attendant furnished by the
doctor, she could not fail to see that he obeyed her implicitly, and
that whenever any difficulty arose between him and his nurse she was
always appealed to. Her pride in this proof of her practical sovereignty
WAS flattered; and when Doctor Duchesne finally admitted that although
the patient was now physically able to be removed to the hospital, yet
he would lose in the change that very strong factor which Josephine had
become in his mental recovery, the young girl as frankly suggested that
he should stay as long as there was any hope of restoring his reason.
Doctor Duchesne was delighted. With all his enthusiasm for science, he
had a professional distrust of some of its disciples, and perhaps was
not sorry to keep this most interesting case in his own hands. To