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 on her as if he might begin a regimen of manual correction at any moment. "I'm goin' to stir my own kittle of mush from now on."

"All right, Dowey," she yielded meekly, happy in his mastery, Rawlins knew.

Peck went on about his vengeful business, Mrs. Peck turning to Rawlins as if to share her admiration, discovering his plight.

"Why, Ned, you're bleedin' all over the place!" she said. "Here—let me see your arm."

Rawlins told her there was nothing more to be done for temporary relief than what he had contrived already, but that he would be grateful if she would allow him to ride her horse to Lost Cabin to have the doctor attend his hurt, to which Mrs. Peck heartily agreed.

She brought the animal up, took the holster with her two efficient pistols from the saddle, and urged him to go at once. She was dressed as Rawlins never had seen her before, in complete male attire, her brown duck coat strained over her large back, a turn of more than a foot taken in the bottoms of her wide overalls.

Rawlins paused before mounting to thank her for her assistance in the moment of his extremity.

"It would have been all over with us in a minute more," he said.

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner," she replied, with the modesty of true valor. "Edith left me a note that Mr. Peck was over here with you, but I didn't find it till after breakfast. I guess she went out lookin' for me, I guess she was worried when I was gone all night. Did he"—hesitantly, her eyes raised with a timid