as her mother had done in the days of long ago

  "Daddy! Daddy, speak to me!"   But the face was the face of the dead.   Stooping, she gently brushed her father's lips with her own, as her mother had done in the days of long ago.   "'Jim!'" she whispered. "'Jim!'"   The eyelids quivered and parted, and the eyes beneath looked vaguely through.   "Mary!" he murmured. Then a sigh. "It hurts--so." One limp hand trembled to his bruised head. "All right, Mary!" Then in a stronger voice: "All right, Mary, I'll stay."   The film passed from before his sight.   "By hickory, Tressa, I thought I was dead--and Mary was taking me in hand. She can get along without me, she says, but you can't. But you needn't tell Adrian. Where's my pipe?"   Murphy was capering about the room, whooping and rubbing his eyes. The injured man fixed him with stern gaze.