Chip, knowing that his turn had come, and come to tarry, found nothing
to say.

"Beside," continued the Little Doctor, "Silver didn't want me so much--
it was the sugar. I hope you aren't jealous of me, because I know his
heart is big enough to hold us both."

She stayed a long half hour, and was so gay that it seemed like old
times to listen to her laugh and watch her dimples while she talked.
Chip forgot that he had a quarrel with fate, and he also forgot Dr.
Cecil Granthum, of Gilroy, Ohio--until Slim rode up and handed the
Little Doctor a letter addressed in that bold, up-and-down writing
that Chip considered a little the ugliest specimen of chirography he
had ever seen in his life.

"It's from Cecil," said the Little Doctor, simply and unnecessarily,
and led Silver back down the hill.

Chip, gazing at that tiresome bluff across the coulee, renewed his
quarrel with fate.






CHAPTER XV.
The Spoils of Victory.