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Updated: June 15, 2025
How long he was at it, or what he did, she scarcely knew she heard the splash of water; caught the flash of the sun on the probe; felt the half conscious shudder of the wounded man, whose head was in her lap, the deft, quick movements of Fairbain, and then "That's it I've got it missed the lung by a hair damn me I'm proud of that job you're a good girl."
Keith took the dirty slip of paper the man reluctantly extracted from his belt, and Fairbain lit matches while he ran his eyes hastily over the lines. As he ended he crushed the paper between his fingers, and walked away to the end of the corral. He wanted to be alone, to think, to decide definitely upon what he ought to do.
He stopped bewildered, staring blindly about, failing utterly to comprehend this mysterious vanishing. What could it mean? What had happened? How could they have disappeared so completely during that single moment he had waited to speak to Fairbain? The man's heart beat like a trip-hammer with apprehension, a sudden fear for Hope taking possession of him.
They peered out together through the convenient tent flap, Fairbain scarcely less interested than the other, already dimly comprehending that his truly dangerous rival was the gambler, and that he could best serve the lady by helping to prove to her the real character of that individual.
Fairbain stared into the face of the speaker, uncertain whether or not he was being laughed at. "Reckon you're right," he acknowledged at last. "Tired, anyhow been out all night thought I'd like to see her again, though finest looking woman I've met since I came West remarkable eyes well, I'll go along to bed see you again to-morrow, Jack."
"Quite likely; at least Fairbain still believes it was the fair Christie whom he so gallantly escorted last night." "How provoking," her foot tapping the floor, a little wrinkle between her eyes. "It seems as though I couldn't escape that woman does she does she really look like me?"
"But didn't you really care for Hawley?" he insisted, bluntly probing for facts. "He he interested me," admitted the girl, hesitatingly, her eyes darkening with sudden anger. "He lied and I believed him I would have believed any one who came with such a story. Oh, Dr. Fairbain," and she clung to him now eagerly, "you cannot realize how hungry I have been for what he brought me.
"You're an adventuress a damn adventuress Hawley's mistress, probably a " "Now, see here, Waite," and Fairbain swung himself forward, "you drop that. Miss Maclaire is my friend, and if you say another word I'll smash you, sheriff or no sheriff." Waite glared at him. "You old fool," he snorted, "what have you got to do with this?"
I tell you, Fairbain, your only chance to ever win the interest of Christie Maclaire is to help us down this fellow Hawley. Yes, you can sit up; I reckon you're beginning to see clearer, ain't you?" Keith drew aside the flap of the tent to glance without, the light falling on Fairbain's face as he struggled to a sitting posture.
"I came merely because I was sent for, Miss Maclaire," he replied, his gray eyes once again upon her face. "Doctor Fairbain gave me your message; I am Jack Keith." She looked the complete astonishment she felt, sitting up in the chair, her eyes filled with questioning doubt. "Doctor Fairbain! My message! Surely you are mistaken? I know no one of that name, and have sent no message."
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