"He tried ter burn hisself an' I wouldn't let him," Hunch replied.
"What did he want to do that for?" asked the Colonel.
"Cause Lizzī's dead."
Thus was told in simple words to the people of Three Sisters what Lizzī herself had not known, that Blind Benner loved her.
Simultaneously with this disclosure came the sound of a horse galloping over the Boomer Creek bridge. The horse came rapidly nearer, and soon his hoofs resounded from the long bridge that spanned the river.
It was a wild gallop, yet the horse ran as if some one sat him urging him on.
"The doctor," surmised every one, and the procession halted. Hunch voiced the general guess to Blind Benner, whom he yet held on the ground.
"The doctor's comin'. He'll bring Lizzī back ter life, see if he don't, Benner."
The blind man ceased struggling, and Hunch let him get on his feet, but watched him warily.
A shout of glad welcome greeted the familiar roan that "saddle-bags," as the Three-Sisters folk would call their physician, always rode when visiting distant patients or in response to urgent calls. The men who bore the stretcher set it down, in readiness for Dr. Barnes, as he reined his horse in the midst of the crowd of men and women who pressed dangerously near the excited animal. Strong hands seized the bridle and muscular arms almost pulled the physician from the saddle, while Colonel Hornberger graphically narrated the story of Gill's rescue and told of Lizzī's swoon which was like death.