"Yes?"
"Do you guess he ken talk if he feels that way?"
But Nan was no longer giving him any attention. All her thoughts, all her being was for the man before them.
A faint tinge of color was creeping under his skin, up to the soft white wrapping fastened about his fire-scorched forehead. Even in the starlight it was plainly visible to the girl's eager eyes. There was something else, too. The look in his eyes had completely changed. To Nan there was something approaching the shadow of a smile.
She moved close to his side so that she could reach out and give him support. Then she gave the father at her side his orders.
"Get water, Dad—quick!" she demanded.
Bud demurred.
"I only got my hat," he said helplessly.
"It'll do. But get it."
Bud moved away, with the heavy haste of two hundred and ten pounds of mental disturbance.