As she watched alone beside this man who had, since she could remember, been a part of her life, and as she realized that he was on the very border line of that land from which, if he entered, he could never return to her, Kitty Reid knew the truth that is greater than any knowledge that the schools of man can give.  She knew the one great truth of her womanhood; knew it not from text book or class room; not from learned professor or cultured associates; but knew it from that good Master of Life who, with infinite wisdom, teaches his many pupils who are free to learn in the school of schools, the School of Nature.  In that hour when the near presence of death so overshadowed all the trivial and non-essential things of life—­when the little standards and petty values of poor human endeavor were as nothing—­this woman knew that by the unwritten edict of God, who decreed that in all life two should be as one, this man was her only lawful mate.  Environment, circumstance, that which we call culture and education, even death, might separate them; but nothing could nullify the fact that was attested by the instinct of her womanhood.  Bending over the man who lay so still, she whispered the imperative will of her heart.

“Come back to me, Phil—­I want you—­I need you, dear—­come back to me!”

Slowly he came out of the mists of weakness and pain to look up at her—­doubtfully—­wonderingly.  But there was a light in Kitty’s face that dispelled the doubt, and changed the look of wondering uncertainty to glad conviction.  He did not speak.  No word was necessary.  Nor did he move, for he must be very still, and hold fast with all his strength to the life that was now so good.  But the woman knew without words all that he would have said, and as his eyes closed again she bowed her head in thankfulness.

Then rising she stole softly to the window.  She felt that she must look out for a moment into the world that was so suddenly new and beautiful.

Under the walnut trees she saw the Dean talking with the man whom she had promised to marry.

Later Mr. Reid, with Helen and Curly, brought the doctor, and the noise of the automobile summoned every soul on the place to wait for the physician’s verdict of life or death.

While the Dean was in Phil’s room with the physician, and the anxious ones were gathered in a little group in front of the house, Jim Reid stood apart from the others talking in low tones with the cowboy Bob.  Patches, who was standing behind the automobile, heard Bob, who had raised his voice a little, say distinctly, “I tell you, sir, there ain’t a bit of doubt in the world about it.  There was the calf a layin’ right there fresh-branded and marked.  He’d plumb forgot to turn it loose, I reckon, bein’ naturally rattled; or else he figgered that it warn’t no use, if Phil should be able to tell what happened.  The way I make it out is that Phil jumped him right in the act, so sudden