At the time of the breaking out of the war for the Union, Warren Charlton was a rising young lawyer in Fairfield, a town situated, like Prairieville, in Wild River Valley, but some miles farther up the stream. On his return from the war he had established himself in Prairieville, much to the disgust and ire of Bangs, who looked upon Charlton as a dangerous rival in business, as also in love; and he was proving himself such, building up a fine and lucrative practice there and in the surrounding country.

Some of his old clients still preferred him to his successors in Fairfield, and when they had important business requiring legal advice, would come to or send for him to attend to it.

And Dr. Jasper, having attained to the reputation of being the most skilful physician and surgeon in all that region of country, was not infrequently summoned thither, and to other like distant points, in cases of severe sickness or serious accident.

On the morning of the day that saw the embarkation of Mr. and Mrs. Himes, both these gentlemen had received an urgent call to the vicinity of Fairfield. A man of property had been thrown from his carriage and seriously injured. His recovery was doubtful, and a will was to be made, while at the same time every effort put forth to save his life.

The town was not on the line of the railroad, nor was the residence of Mr. Connor, the injured man. It lay beyond Fairfield and near the river. So the two gentlemen drove over together.

They found the patient dangerously hurt, but in full possession of his mental powers. Physician and lawyer were in attendance upon him together or by turns through the remainder of that day and the following night.

Toward morning he slept under the influence of an opiate administered to deaden the sense of pain. Then the doctor withdrew from the room, leaving him in the care of his wife and daughter, and passing out upon the front porch, joined the captain, who was slowly pacing it to and fro.

“Any change?” Charlton asked, stopping in his walk.

“Yes, for the better; I have strong hope that he will recover. How are you progressing with your work?”

“I have finished; nothing is wanting now but Mr. Connor’s signature.”

“I think he will be able to add it when he wakes,” the doctor said; “he is sleeping now. Hark! what was that?”

“A pistol shot and a cry for help!” exclaimed the captain. “It came from the direction of the river, did it not? Some one is, perhaps, in deadly peril. Let us go to the rescue. I have a loaded revolver on the table in the room yonder. It’s hardly safe to be without one in these times of continual burglaries.”

“No; I carry one constantly in travelling about the country roads,” the doctor said; and as the words left his lips two young men belonging to the family came rushing out, excitedly, but with care to make no noise.

“Did you gentlemen hear that shot and cry for help?” they asked, one of them adding, “That band of burglars is after old Himes and his money, I’m afraid. I heard he’d started down the river on a raft and moored for the night about half a mile below here.”

There was a hasty consultation and gathering up of weapons; then the four set off on a run for the river, intending to follow its course till they should reach the probable scene of conflict.

But before they had traversed half the distance a woman came rushing wildly toward them, shrieking for help.

“Who? where? what?” they asked.

“Mr. Himes—my husband!” she panted. “Oh, make haste! they’re killing him!”

“Show us the way,” said Dr. Jasper; “lead on, and we’ll follow.”

She turned and retraced her steps, almost flying over the ground, so that they had some difficulty in keeping up with her.

Day was faintly dawning in the east, and as they neared the spot they could see the outlines of the raft where it lay on the water, then several dark figures leap ashore from it and fled swiftly in a direction opposite to that from which they were approaching.

One of the young men sent a shot after them, but without effect, the light being insufficient for certain aim. All was darkness and silence on the raft.

“Oh, we’re too late! they’ve killed him!” exclaimed Belinda, with a hysterical sob.

“Perhaps not,” said the doctor, stepping cautiously aboard, the others following. “Can you get a light?”

“There was a candle and matches on a shelf in the cabin there, close to the door,” she answered, in a shaking voice. “Get them yourselves; I can’t go in there to look at—”

“No need; here they are,” he said, in a low, excited tone, having already stepped to the door and laid his hand upon them.

He struck a match, lighted the candle, and glanced about the tiny apartment, the other men pressing up behind him and looking over his shoulder.

A shudder ran through the little group, and a low exclamation of horror burst from the lips of the young Connors; but the doctor and the captain, inured to scenes of blood and carnage by their experiences in the late war, viewed this one in awed silence. Yet only for an instant.

“Life may not be extinct!” exclaimed the doctor, hastily setting down the light and stooping over the prostrate, bleeding, and apparently lifeless form of the old man.

Belinda, lingering on the outside of the group, overheard the words with strangely mingled relief and terror. To think that he had been murdered was so horrible; yet if he were still alive and should recover consciousness and the power of speech! Ah, who could tell how much he knew or would be able to reveal of her complicity in the crime? Trembling and half fainting with fright she clutched at the wall of the cabin to keep from falling.

Her first impulse was to flee; but a second thought told her that would but confirm the suspicion of her guilt, were such once set afloat, while if she remained and bore herself with an air of innocence, the fact that she had promptly summoned assistance would be strong evidence in her favor.

She dropped down upon the floor, and leaning her head against the wall, listened intently for further sounds from within, though her heart was beating so loud that it seemed as if she could hear nothing else.

“He lives! he is reviving!” were the next words that reached her ear after what had seemed hours of waiting, though in reality but a very few moments had passed.

Then the old man spoke, feebly, tremulously, but quite distinctly. “He thought he’d finished me, the scoundrel! Run, somebody, and catch him! It’s Phelim O’Rourke; he’s robbed me! he’s got it all!” feeling for the belt he had worn about his waist. “And she—she’s hand and glove with him—curse her! take her too, and let the law deal with ’em both!”

“Who?” asked one of the bystanders.

“B’lindy—my Judas of a wife! She’s betrayed me into the hands o’ them burglars.”

He paused, panting for breath, while the doctor said, soothingly, “I think you are mistaken. She has saved your life by bringing us here to your aid.”

“Humph!” grunted the old man, incredulously. Then, impatiently, and struggling to rise, “Why don’t ye run and ketch the robbers, some o’ ye? they’ll git away with every cent I had.”

“It shall be attended to,” said the doctor; “but you must stop talking, if you want to live to bring them to justice.”

“I’m off after the sheriff and a posse of men to pursue them as fast as possible!” cried one of the young men, springing ashore.

His brother was about to follow, but the doctor detained him. “We must have help to carry Mr. Himes to some place where he can have the care and nursing he is likely to need for days or weeks to come.”

“He’ll have to be taken on a litter?”

“Yes, certainly; he is too weak for any other mode of conveyance.”

“I’ll see to it; I’ll have two or three more men here before I’m an hour older, or my name’s not Bob Connor!” and away he sped toward the town.

Charlton stepped out from the cabin, leaving Dr. Jasper alone with the wounded man.

At the sound of his step Belinda lifted her head. “Is there anything I can do to help, sir?” she asked, in a shaking voice.

“I think not,” he replied; “and I should judge it best for you to keep out of his sight for a while, as the excitement of seeing you might prove injurious.”

“Yes, I s’pose so,” she said, gloomily, and averting her face. “Where’ll he be took to?”

“The tavern in Fairfield, I presume; I know of no more suitable place—do you?”

“No; we hain’t got no home no more. I told him ’twas a fool thing to sell it; but of course he thought I didn’t know nothin’; but if he’d done as I said, this awful thing wouldn’t never a happened.”

“No, I presume not; and I think myself it was a foolhardy thing to attempt to go down the river in this way, particularly with such a sum of money on board, and in the face of the fact that so many burglaries have been committed in the neighborhood of late.”

“I wisht he a been wiser,” she sighed, dropping her face into her hands; “but I’ll nurse him out o’ this ov he’ll let me.”

The captain suggested that she could at least gather up his clothing and such other things as would be needed for his comfort while ill.

She said she would stay behind and do so when they carried him away, then follow to the hotel with the things; she knew the way quite well.

“You were by when the attack was made?” Charlton presently remarked, interrogatively. “I hope you may be able to testify to the identity of the would-be murderers?”

She started and trembled afresh. “I—I didn’t see one o’ their faces,” she said. “How could I? ’twas dark as pitch.”

“O’Rourke was employed by Mr. Himes for several weeks, I know; and you may have been able to recognize his voice.”

“He—I mean the fellar that come in the cabin where we was sleepin’—didn’t say a word, only grabbed Himes—to git a holt o’ the belt he kep’ his money in, I s’pose—and Himes he begun to screech murder! an’ I cut an’ run fer help hard as ever I could,” she said, in a sullen tone. “He kin say whatsomever he’s a mind to; I hadn’t nothin’ to do with the affair.”

“I hope not, indeed,” returned the captain; “and I trust you will be ready to do what you can to bring the scoundrels to justice.”

She made no response to that, but presently rose and went around to the other side of the raft, where she remained out of sight till the wounded man had been carried away.

The town, situated a mile or more farther up the river, could be reached by traversing half that distance by land. Taking that route, Mr. Himes’s bearers bore him thither, stepping carefully to avoid jolting him.

The news of the attack upon him had spread like wildfire, and early as was the hour, the streets were full of people—men, women, and children—eager to catch a glimpse of his features as he was carried past, and to learn every particular of the affair. Many of them, falling into line behind the litter, followed it to the outer door of the tavern, and would have even pressed into the room to which he was finally taken had not the doctor positively forbidden it and resolutely shut the door in their faces.

All was still excitement in and about the building when the stage from Frederic drove up.

“Stop here for breakfast,” the driver called out, laconically, to his passengers as he reined in his horses and sprang to the ground. Then holding the lines in one hand, he opened the door of the stage with the other.

Several men alighted, one of them hailing the landlord:

“Hello, Strong, what’s up?”

“Why, hello, Smith! how d’y do?” returned mine host, stepping briskly forward and shaking hands. “Glad to see you. But haven’t ye heard the news? Old Farmer Himes, simpleton that he was to be travelling down the river on a raft, was attacked by the burglars last night—or, rather, early this morning I suppose it was—and pretty nigh murdered. Dr. Jasper’s been working with him for the last two hours; he’s in there now,” nodding his head in the direction of the room where the wounded man lay, “but I reckon he’ll bring him round.”

A stranger standing at Smith’s side started slightly at the mention of the doctor’s name, and, fixing his eyes on the speaker, listened intently as he went on to give a detailed account of the nature and extent of Himes’s hurts, and what had been done for his relief. “Ah, here comes the doc himself!” he exclaimed, pausing in his narrative as a gentleman stepped from the doorway into their midst. “How’s your patient, doc?”

“Doing as well as could reasonably be expected, Mr. Strong,” returned Dr. Jasper, quietly, but as one in some haste. “Not well enough for me to leave him to-day,” he added, “and I must send a telegram to my wife, lest she should be anxious at not seeing me.”

“Got it ready, I see,” said Strong, noticing that the doctor held a slip of paper in his fingers. “Just give it to me, and I’ll have it sent right away. Now walk in to breakfast, gentlemen—all of you; it’s on the table, smoking hot.”

All this time the stranger had eyed Dr. Jasper askance, and now taking a seat nearly opposite him at the table, he continued to do so during the meal.

The doctor did not seem to perceive the scrutiny to which he was being subjected, but ate as one whose thoughts were preoccupied with something else than his immediate surroundings or the food of which he was partaking.

Naturally the talk at the table ran principally on the startling event of a few hours previous; but the doctor took no part in it, except when directly addressed by remark or query.

Presently the announcement, “Stage for Prairieville leaves in five minutes!” sent several persons, including the stranger who had so persistently eyed the doctor, hurrying out.

Dr. Jasper rose the next moment, and was passing through the hall on his way to his patient, when the driver slammed the door to upon his passengers, the stranger leaning eagerly forward to catch a last glimpse of the physician.

“You appear to take considerable interest in Dr. Jasper, sir,” remarked Smith, eyeing the man with a quizzical look, as the driver vaulted to his elevated seat and took up the reins.

“Yes; I’ve heard him spoken of,” was the reply.

“Nothing bad, I’ll venture to say; he’s well thought of in these parts,” remarked Smith, with emphasis.

But the stranger was gazing from the window, as they whirled rapidly down the street, and paid no attention to the remark.