"At any rate I think the poor man will be able to be moved in the morning," she finished, as they made their way up the hill. "It will be a wonderful thing if, after all, it comes out all right; that he is a free man, and that his slight injury may restore his scattered faculties."
"Let us hope so," said Jack fervently.
Cora wanted to tell him about the letter from Jones otherwise Brentano, but there was not time to do so before they reached the hut, so she reasoned it would be best to postpone it.
Laurel was sitting, holding her father's injured head when they entered the hut. He was awake now, and looking with such great, hungry eyes into his daughter's face.
"Now we have fresh water, father," she said. "Do you know my friends?"
"The girl, yes," he said 'feebly. "But the boy?"
"Her brother," said Laurel quickly, delight showing in her voice.
"Isn't it good to have friends, father?"
"Good, very good," he said. Then he dosed his eyes again, and neither Cora nor Jack ventured to speak.
"It does not seem possible that he can talk so rationally," Laurel whispered. "Oh, I have now such hopes that he will get well."
"Of course he will," Jack assured her. "But you girls had better get some rest. I will sit up and watch."