When at length the work was completed, Keith stepped back and viewed his patient.
"There," he said. "I think he will do now. We've done the best we could."
"Thank you. Oh, thank you," replied Constance. "You are very good."
"That's nothing, Miss Radhurst. I'm so glad I happened to be here to help your father. Now, you and Pete had better rest a while, as I wish to remain here for a time."
"Very well, laddie," returned the prospector. "I'll go home now." Then, turning to Constance, he continued: "Ye kin trust 'im, lassie. He'll bring yer dad through, if any one kin."
The old man chuckled as he waded through the snow to his own cabin. "They think I'll rest, do they? Waal, they don't know Pete Martin yit. Mebbe they'll see afore mornin', though."
"May I watch with you, Mr. Steadman?" Constance asked, when Pete had gone.
"Do you not need rest, Miss Radhurst? You must be tired after such an anxious day."
"No, no. I could not rest with my father moaning in that pitiful manner. He is very dear to me, and I must stay by his side for a while anyway."
"Connie, Connie," came from the sick man. "The paper, the paper; give me the paper! Don't let any one have it!"