"Bill," said she, "see what is the matter with your boss when you go over, and tell him to come to breakfast."

Bill had no difficulty ascertaining, and returned quickly with the news.

"I knew it!" exclaimed Agnes, excitedly. "I just felt that something was the matter," whereupon she got into a light coat and followed her father and brothers to where he lay outside the barn door, bleeding freely from the temple.

They carried him into their house, and were cheered to see that the blood had ceased to flow. His head was bandaged while Bill went for Doc. Slater, who pronounced the wound serious but not fatal. He awakened later in the day and called for water. It was brought him forthwith by Agnes.

When he had drunk deeply and lay back weakly upon the pillow, he heard:

"How do you feel, Jean?" He looked around in the semi-darkness of the room, and upon seeing her, sighed before answering. When he did it was a groan. She came quickly to where he lay and bent over him.

"Jean," she repeated softly, tenderly. "How do you feel? Does your head pain you much?"

"Where am I?" he said, turning his face toward her. She put her hand lightly over his bandaged head.

"You're here, Jean. At Stewart's. You are hurt, do you understand?"

"Hurt?" he repeated abstractedly.

"Yes, hurt, Jean. You were kicked on the temple by one of your horses."

"Is that so?" and he suddenly sat up in the bed.

"Careful, careful," she cried, excitedly, pushing him gently back upon the pillow. He was silent as if in deep thought, while she waited eagerly. Presently she said in a low voice:

"Do you feel hurt badly, Jean?"

"I don't know." He raised his hand to his head as if trying to think more clearly. She caught his hands and held them as if trying to estimate his pulse, to see if he had any fever.

"How did you come to get kicked, Jean?" she asked, speaking in the same low tone.

"I don't know. When I opened the barn door I had a vision of one of the horses moving and I knew no more."

"You must be very careful and not start the bleeding again," she advised. "You bled considerably."

"And you say I am at your house. At where I board?"

"Yes, Jean."

He turned and stared at her, and for the first time seemed to be himself. He closed his eyes a moment as if to shut out something he did not wish to see.

"And you have me here and are caring for me?"

"We brought you here and are caring for you, Jean," she repeated.

"It is singular," said he.

"What is singular?"

"That you have twice happened to be where you can serve me when I am injured or in danger." She was silent. She didn't know how to answer, or that there was to be any answer.