At her touch and voice Dick moaned and opened his eyes. Barney quickly stepped back out of sight. For a moment or two the eyes wandered about the room, then rested on Margaret's face in a troubled, inquiring gaze.
“What is it, Dick, dear?” said Margaret, bending over him.
For answer his hand began to move feebly toward his breast as if seeking something.
“I know. The letter, Dick?” A look of intelligence lighted the eye. “That's all right, Dick. I shall get it to Barney. Barney is here, you know.”
A hand grasped her arm. “Hush!” said Barney in stern command. “Say nothing about me.” But she heeded him not. For a moment longer the sick man's gaze lingered on her face. A faint smile of content overspread the drawn features, then the look of intelligence faded and the eyes closed wearily.
“Come,” said Barney, moving toward the door, “he is better quiet.”
Leaving the nurse in charge, they went together toward the office.
“Where did you find him?” asked Margaret as she gave Barney a seat. Then Barney told her the story of how he had chanced upon the canoe and had discovered Dick lying insensible in the woods.
“It was God's leading, Barney,” said Margaret gently, when the story was done; but to this he made no reply. “Is there serious danger, do you think?” she inquired in an anxious voice.
“He will recover,” replied Barney. “All he requires is careful nursing, and that you can give him. I shall wait till to-morrow.”