The surgery was skilful but rude, for proper instruments were not at
hand; and in a few hours he, whom we shall still call Sergeant Tom, lay
quietly sleeping, the pallor gone from his face and the feeling of death
from his hand.

It was near midnight when he waked. Jen was sitting beside him. He
looked round and saw her. Her face was touched with the light that shone
from the Prairie Star. "Jen," he said, and held out his hand.

She turned from the window and stood beside his bed. She took his
outstretched hand. "You are better, Sergeant Tom?" she said, gently.

"Yes, I'm better; but it's not Sergeant Tom I am any longer, Jen."

"I forgot that."

"I owed you a great debt, Jen. I couldn't remain one of the Riders of
the Plains and try to pay it. I left them. Then I tried to save Val,
and I did. I knew how to do it without getting anyone else into trouble.
It is well to know the trick of a lock and the hour that guard is
changed. I had left, but I relieved guard that night just the same.
It was a new man on watch. It's only a minute I had; for the regular
relief watch was almost at my heels. I got Val out just in time. They
discovered us, and we had a run for it. Pretty Pierre has told you.
That's right. Val is safe now--"

In a low strained voice, interrupting him, she said, "Did Val leave you
wounded so on the prairie?"