Being weak from the loss of blood, he sank into a deep slumber before the operation was completed, and Frank, finding nothing to do, and being too nervous, after the exciting events of the evening, to keep still, went out to watch for the doctor, who, seeing that the Fort was sixteen miles from the ranch, could not reasonably be expected before daylight.

For a long time he paced restlessly up and down the porch, his mind busy with the three questions that had so astonished and perplexed him: What had happened to bring his uncle home that night?
How had he been so easily overpowered by Pierre?
and, What was the matter with Marmion?
The longer he pondered upon them, the more bewildered he became; and, finally dismissing them from his mind altogether, he went out to attend to his uncle's horse, which, all this while, had been running back and forth between the house and barn, now and then neighing shrilly, as if impatient at being so long neglected.
As Frank passed through the court, he picked up his rifle, which Mr.
Winters had thrown down after taking that flying shot at Pierre.

The stock felt damp in his grasp, and when he looked at his hand, he saw that it was red with blood.
"I understand one thing now, just as well as if I had stood here and witnessed it," said he, to himself.

"When Pierre went out of my room, he ran in here to see who it was visiting the ranch at this late hour, and when he found that it was Uncle James, he thought he would get the safe key.

He was too much of a coward to attack him openly, and so he slipped up and knocked him down with the butt of my rifle.