By the time she had put the bed into shape, got a bowl of water ready, lighted a lamp, and drawn the bed out from the wall, there was a knocking at the door.

In a moment she had opened it, and was faced by John Sibley, whose hat was off as though he were in the presence of death.

This gave her a shock, and her eyes strove painfully to see the figure which was being borne feet foremost over her threshold.
"It's Mr.Crozier ?" she asked.
"He was shot coming home here--by the M'Mahon mob, I guess," returned Sibley huskily.
"Is--is he dead ?" she asked tremblingly.

"No.

Hurt bad." "The kindest man--it'd break Kitty's heart--and mine," she added hastily, for she might be misunderstood; and John Sibley had shown signs of interest in her daughter.
"Where's the Young Doctor ?" she asked, catching sight of Crozier's face as they laid him on the bed.