Vance and Elizabeth and Gainor went to the sheriff. He had been installed
in a guest room. His eyes were closed, his arms outstretched. A thick,
telltale bandage was wrapped about his breast. And Wu Chi, skillful in
such matters from a long experience, was sliding about the room in his
whispering slippers. The sheriff did not open his eyes when Elizabeth
tried his pulse. It was faint, but steady.

He had been shot through the body and the lungs grazed, for as he
breathed there was a faint bubble of blood that grew and swelled and
burst on his lips at every breath. But he lived, and he would live unless
there were an unnecessary change for the worse. They went softly out of
the room again. Elizabeth was grave. Mr. Gainor took her hand.

"I think I know what people are saying now, and what they will say
hereafter. If Terry's father were any other than Hollis, this affair
would soon he forgotten, except as a credit to him. But even as it is, he
will live this matter down. I want to tell you again, Miss Cornish, that
you have reason to be proud of him. He is the sort of man I should be
proud to have in my own family. Madam, good-by. And if there is anything
in which I can be of service to you or to Terence, call on me at any time
and to any extent."

And he went down the hall with a little swagger. Mr. Gainor felt that he
had risen admirably to a great situation. As a matter of fact, he had.

Elizabeth turned to Vance.

"I wish you'd find Terence," she said, "and tell him that I'm waiting for
him in the library."