“Quite right, Daniel; quite right.  You always are.  It’s me that goes wrong; blundering, bumping, smashing into things.  Blast it all!  I—­I don’t know what to say.  B—­B—­Blast it all!”

The hour was late when the two men finally retired for the night.  Long after his heavy, regular breathing announced that the doctor was sleeping soundly, the shepherd lay wide awake, keenly sensitive to every sound that stirred in the forest.  Once he arose from his bed, and stepping softly left the cabin, to stand under the stars, his face lifted to the dark summit of Old Dewey and the hills that rimmed the Hollow.  And once, when the first light of day came over the ridges, he went to the bunk where his friend lay, to look thoughtfully down upon the sleeping man.

Breakfast was nearly ready when Dr. Coughlan awoke.  The physician saw at once by the worn and haggard look on his friend’s face that his had been a sleepless night.  It was as though all the pain and trouble of the old days had returned.  The little doctor muttered angrily to himself while the shepherd was gone to the spring for water.  “Blast it all, I’m a fool, a meddlesome, old fool.  Ought to have let well enough alone.  No need to drag him back into it all again; no need.  Do no good; no good at all.”

When the morning meal was finished, Mr. Howitt said, “David, will you think me rude, if I leave you alone to-day?  The city pavement fits one but poorly to walk these hills of mine, and you are too tired after your trip and the loss of your regular sleep to go with me this morning.  Stay at the ranch and rest.  If you care to read, here are a few of your favorites.  Will you mind very much?  I should like to be alone to-day, David.”

“Right, Daniel, right.  I understand.  Don’t say another word; not a word.  Go ahead.  I’m stiff and sore anyway; just suit me.”

The shepherd arranged everything for his friend’s comfort, putting things in readiness for his noonday meal, and showing him the spring.  Then, taking his own lunch, as his custom was, he went to the corral and released the sheep.  The doctor watched until the last of the flock was gone, and he could no longer hear the tinkle of the bells and the bark of the dog.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

I ain’t nobody no more.

With the coming of the evening, the shepherd returned to his guest.  Dr. Coughlan heard first the bells on the leaders of the flock, and the barking of the dog coming nearer and nearer through the woods.  Soon the sheep appeared trooping out of the twilight shadows into the clearing; then came Brave followed by his master.

The countenance of the old scholar wore again that look of calm strength and peace that had marked it before the coming of his friend.  “Have you had a good rest, David?  Or has your day been long and tiresome?  I fear it was not kind of me to leave you alone in this wilderness.”