oughly. He would not touch a bite of food until he had done so, hungry and tired though he was.
“You are right in your conjecture, Miss Brisbane,” he at last informed the nurse. “The bullet did not enter his body, as you at first supposed. It evidently struck him a glancing blow on the head, judging from the mark I find there. Then I find another mark which might have been made when he fell, hitting, no doubt, the table as he did so. It was certainly a narrow escape.”
“It was the Lord’s doing,” the missionary quietly replied. “Only His intervention saved me, for the revolver was fired pointblank at my head. He must have work for me still to do or else He would not have spared me. It is good of you, doctor, to come here on my behalf. I have often heard of your noble deeds. I hope you will be comfortable in this humble abode, and make yourself perfectly at home.”
This Dr. Rainsford was well able to do. He was the life of the mission house, and as he and Hugo ate the breakfast which Marion had prepared, he related amusing incidents of the trip from Big Chance.
“My friend Hugo, here, set me a hard pace,” he laughingly remarked. “He was in such a hurry that he would hardly stop to eat or to sleep.”
“You seemed to be hungry about all the time,” the trapper laughingly replied. “You wanted to stop every hour or so for something to eat. We were entirely out of grub when we got here.”
“Did you pass the place where we had that terrible experience with the snow-slide?” Marion asked. “I shudder whenever I think of it.”
“We did, although the last storm covered up the great scar. I was in fear of my life when coming along
