With sobbing breath he cried out his grief, and then, looking down, he saw the miracle in Cassidy's face.
The Irishman's eyes were wide open, and there was pain, and also a grin, about his mouth.
"I'm glad you're sorry," he said.

"I'd hate to have a bad opinion of you, McKay.

But--you're a rotten shot!" His body sagged heavily, and the grin slowly left his lips, and a moan came from between them.

He struggled and spoke.
"It may be--you'll want help, McKay.

If you do--there's a cabin half a mile up the creek.