CHAPTER XVI

  SOMETHING DOING

  During the next two or three days the entire atmosphere of Snake's Fallunderwent a significant change. All doubt had been set at rest. Thewhole problem of the future boom was solved, and David Slosson receivedas much homage in the conversation of the general run of the citizensas though he were the victorious general in a military campaign. Thelesser people, who would receive the most benefit from the coming boom,regarded him with wide-eyed wonder at the stupendous nature of thewildly exaggerated reports of his dealings in land. They saw in him aNapoleon of finance, and remembered that their concerns were vastlymore valuable through his operations.

  Men of maturer business instincts withheld their judgment and contentedthemselves with a rather dazed wonder. Others, those who had actuallyand already profited by his preliminary deals, chuckled softly tothemselves, rubbed their hands gently, pocketed his paper and depositmoney, and wrote him down "plumb crazy." But even so, there was asober watchfulness as to the next movements in the approaching boom.Those who were the farthest seeing kept an eye wide open on BuffaloPoint. So far as they could see it was not possible for the BuffaloPoint interests to go under without a "kick." When would that "kick"come, and where would it be delivered?

  As for David Slosson, after his first effort, which had been thedeciding factor in the future of Snake's Fall, he remainedunapproachable. He was living at Peter McSwain's hotel, and occupied abedroom and parlor, which latter served him as an office. Here heremained more or less invisible, possibly while his disfigured featuresunderwent the process of mending, possibly nursing his wrath andplotting developments against the object of it. There was even anotherpossible explanation. Maybe the plunge into the land market he hadtaken needed a great concentration of effort to completely manipulateit. Whatever it was, very little of the railroad company's agent wasseen after his first setting defiant foot into the arena of affairs.

  McSwain was more than interested. The hotel-keeper seemed to havebecome obsessed with the idea that David Slosson was the only creatureworth regarding on the face of the earth. This was after he, Peter,had spent the evening of that memorable first day of real movement, inthe company of Silas Mallinsbee and Gordon, out at the office atBuffalo Point.

  Peter McSwain had always been an attentive landlord in his business,now he had suddenly become even more so, especially to David Slosson.There was not a single requirement that the agent could conceive, butPeter was on hand to supply it. He was more or less at his elbow thewhole time.

  Then, too, Mike Callahan became a frequenter of the hotel, and evenboarded there. Furthermore, a wonderful friendliness between him andPeter sprang up, which was so marked that the townspeople saw in it acombination of forces possibly foreshadowing the inauguration of agreat hotel enterprise under their joint control. This also was afterthat first evening, when Mike Callahan had also formed one of the partyat the office at Buffalo Point.

  Another point of interest, had it been noticeable by the more curiousand interested of the frequenters of the hotel, was, that at any timethat Peter McSwain found it necessary to absent himself from the hotel,Mike was always found in his place superintending the running of theestablishment.

  However, these small details were merely an added puff of wind to thebreath of general excitement prevailing. The one thought in the placeseemed to be of those preparations necessary for the boom. Alreadycertain contracts, long since prepared for such a happening, were putinto operation. A number of buildings were started, or prepared tostart. The news had been sent broadcast by interested citizens, and afresh influx of people began and heavy orders from the various traderswere placed with the wholesalers in the East.

  David Slosson in his quarters was made aware of these things, butsomehow they raised small enough enthusiasm in him. Truth to tell, hewas far too deeply concerned with the subtleties of his own affairs.His course of action had not been the wild plunge which Peter McSwainhad suggested. On the contrary, such was his venomous nature that hehad pitted his own abilities and fortune against the Buffalo Pointinterests in a carefully calculated scheme.

  For years he had been engaged in every corner of the United States andCanada in such work as he was now doing. In the process of such work,by methods of unscrupulous grafting and blackmail he had contrived afortune of no inconsiderable amount. So that now he was no ordinaryagent. He was a "representative" of the interests he worked for. Inhis case the distinction was a nice one.

  As the result of his encounter with Gordon he had resolved upon thecrushing defeat of his adversaries by hurling the entire weight of hispersonal fortune into the scale. True enough he had bought withoutregard to price. He bought all he could in the best positions, andeven in the quarters which would not meet with the railroad's approval.So his purchases had to be far greater, both in extent and price, thanin the ordinary way he would have made at Buffalo Point.

  Having thus bought, and thrown his own money into the affair, this washis plan of dealing with the matter. First, he knew this boom wasbased on sound foundations. The future was assured by the vastcoal-fields just opening up. The Bude and Sideley Coal Company wasonly the first. There would be others, many of them. With therailroad depot at Snake's Fall, the whole of the outlying positions ofthe city would boom with the rest. _Any land round it would be ofenormous value_. So he purchased in every direction. He bought at"skied" prices from the big holders, so that the railroad should besatisfied as to positions, and he bought largely in the outlying partsof the city where no "skied" prices could rule. Then he pooled theprice which he knew the railroad would pay, with his own fortune to paythe whole bill, put the railroad in _on the best sites at their ownprice_, and held the balance of his purchases for himself.

  It was his only means of justifying to his principals his declining toaccept Buffalo Point's terms, and though it meant locking up hisavailable capital in Snake's Fall, he knew, in the end, he would recouphimself with added fortune, and have wrecked those who had rejected hisblackmail, and added to their audacity by personal assault. It pleasedhim to think that Hazel Mallinsbee would also be made to suffer forwhat he considered her outrageous treatment of himself.

  His method was certainly Napoleonic, and for its very audacity itshould succeed. As he reviewed his position he could find noappreciable flaws. If the coal were there the place must boom,and--_he knew the coal was there_.

  So he was satisfied.

  Five days after making his first deal, those deals which had inspiredso much derision, his whole operations were completed. He was feelingcontented. It had been a strenuous time, and had demanded every ounceof energy and commercial acumen he possessed to complete the work. Heknew that his whole future was at stake, but he also knew that he heldthe four aces which would be the finally deciding factors in the game.He felt free at last to notify the President of the Union Grayling andUkataw Railroad of his transactions, and was confident of that shrewdfinancier's approval and felicitations. Nor were the latter the leastdesirable in his estimation.

  He had already dined in his parlor, as had been his custom since hisencounter with Gordon. But now he intended to move abroad. He felthimself to be the arbiter of the fate of these "rubes," as hecharacterized the citizens of Snake's Fall, and he did not see thenecessity for denying himself the adulation such a position entitledhim to.

  With a self-satisfied feeling he picked up a long code message he hadwritten out and thrust it in his pocket. Then, carefully putting awayall other private papers into his dressing-case, and locking it, hesauntered leisurely out of his room.

  He intended to give himself his first breathing space for five days,and he lounged downstairs to the hotel office.

  Sure enough, the first person he encountered was Peter McSwain. Theman looked hot, but then he always looked hot. His smile of welcomewas almost servile, and David Slosson felt pleased at the sign.

  The consequence was, his manner promptly became something more thanaut
ocratic. There was a domineering note in his voice, and a coolinsolence in his regard of his host. Peter remained quite undisturbed.His mind went back to the scene in the office at Buffalo Point on theeventful first evening, and an even greater servility beamed out of hishot eyes.

  "Yes, sir," he cried, in answer to Slosson's inquiry as to themovements in the town. "Movements? Why, I'd sure say you've set thisplace jumping as though you'd opened up an earthquake under it. I tellyou frankly, Mr. Slosson, sir, we been waitin' days and days with oureyes on you for a lead. I don't guess it means a thing to a gentlemanlike you, but if you'd been a sort o' cock angel right down from theclouds on an aeroplane you couldn't ha' been blessed more'n the folksright here have been blessin' your name these last days, since yououted that bum outfit down at Buffalo Point."

  "They're a pretty rotten crowd," agreed Slosson, well enough pleased."Though I say it, it takes a man of experience to handle a crowd likethat. They're sheer blackmailers, but I don't stand for a thing likethat. You see, our play is to serve the public right. Well, seeingSnake's Fall is a straight proposition I guess I had to treat 'emright. I figure I put a heap of dollars in the way of Snake's Fall.You won't do so bad yourself?"

  Peter smiled amiably.

  "I can't kick."

  "Kick?" Slosson's eyes widened. "Guess you ought to get right on yourknees, and thank--me." Then he laughed. "Say, maybe you'll startputting up a--real hotel."

  His contempt was marked as he let his glance wander over his simple andprimitive surroundings. Peter took no sort of umbrage.

  "Well, that was how I was figurin'. Y'see I got to be first in thatline. Since you downed Mallinsbee's crowd of crooks, why, it's goingto make things easy. Say, you don't figure to sink dollars that wayyourself? Maybe you could get right in on the ground floor."

  His cordial tone pleased the agent, but he pretended to consider thematter too small for his participation.

  "I'd need a big holding," he laughed. "I ain't time for one-hossedshows. Still, I thank you for the offer. Guess the Mallinsbee crowdare kicking 'emselves to death. What?"

  Peter nodded impressively, and drew closer in his confidence.

  "Kickin'? That don't describe it. They deserve it, too. They kep' usdancing around guessin' with their patch of grazin'. Say, this townowes you a big heap, an' I'm glad. There's one thing owin' a realsmart gent like you, Mr. Slosson, sir, an' quite another owin' a crowdof crooks like Mallinsbee's. This town ain't likely to forget.There's things like testimonials around, sir," he added, winkingsignificantly, "and when a city's making a big pile through a man,testimonials are like to take on a mighty handsome shape."

  Slosson grinned.

  "I shouldn't discourage 'em," he said pleasantly. "The folks 'll seewhere they are in a few days. Here." He pulled out his long cyphermessage from his pocket, and held it out towards Peter triumphantly."You can read it if you like. You won't be able to get its meaning,but I'll tell you what it is. It's to tell my company to go rightahead. They're in. That means that Snake's Fall is made, sir,completely and finally made, and the Mallinsbee ground sharks are plumbdown and out. And I'm glad to say I've been the means of fixing thingsthat way for you."

  Peter took the message. He took it rather quickly--almost too quickly.He read it. The words were so much gibberish to him, and it was fartoo long to remember. But with a quick effort he took in the one wordof address, and the first six words of the message.

  Then he handed it back.

  "Do you need that sent off, sir?" he inquired easily, but his heart wasbeating quickly.

  Slosson shook his head.

  "Guess I'll send it myself. I'm going across to the depot right now."He folded up the paper. "That's the sentence on the Buffalo Pointcrooks, and its execution will follow--quick."

  "An' serve 'em darned right," cried Peter sharply. "I ain't time forcrooks like them. You're right, sir. Don't take chances. See thatsent off yourself, sir. I'm real glad you come along here. There'llbe fortunes lying around in your track, an' then there's alwaysthem--testimonials. Say, you'll just excuse me, sir, but there's someall-fired 'rubes' shoutin' for drinks in the bar. I----"

  Slosson laughed.

  "Yes, you get right on. The boys have money to burn in this city now.They'll have more later. I'll get going."

  He moved off and passed through the crowded office, and out of thehotel, while Peter dashed swiftly into his private office. He wentstraight to his desk and wrote on paper all he could remember of thecode message. Then he stood up and swore softly to himself.

  For some moments he let himself go at the expense of the man he hadjust been talking to. Then he became calmer, and his face grewthoughtful. Then, after awhile, a smile grew in his hot eyes, and hemurmured audibly--

  "I wonder. Steve Mason's a good boy, an' he don't draw a big pileslamming the keys of his instruments over there. I wonder."

  After that he left the office and hurried out to the veranda, and stoodwatching, in the evening light, for the figure of David Slosson leavingthe telegraph operator's office.

  Gordon and Hazel Mallinsbee were riding amongst the hills. Gordon wason Sunset, and Hazel's brown mare was reveling in the joy of a freshmorning gallop through her native valleys and woodlands.

  Ever since the memorable day when he discovered that Slosson was hisfather's agent, Gordon had lived in a state of almost feverish delight.At his instigation they had closed up the office at Buffalo Point, togive color to their defeat by the agent. At his instigation they hadarranged many other more or less significant matters. But it had beenMallinsbee's own suggestion that Gordon should take up his abode at theranch instead of sharing the hospitality of Mike Callahan's livery barnin Snake's Fall.

  It was a glorious summer day and the mountain breezes came down thehillsides with that refreshing cool belonging to the heights above.The joy of living was thrilling both of them as they rode, and theirhorses, too, seemed to have caught the infection. But there wassomething more than the mere joy of life and health actuating them now.There was an excitement such as neither could have experienced duringthose long, dull hours which, during the past weeks, had been spent inthe now closed office at Buffalo Point.

  They raced along down a wide green valley lined upon either side bywood-clad slopes of hills, which mounted up towards the blue forseveral hundreds of feet. Ahead of them shone the white ramparts ofthe mountain range. They scintillated in the sunlight, a shimmeringwall of snow and ice many thousands of feet high. Before them laymiles and miles of broken hills, rising higher and higher as theyapproached the ultimate barrier of the Rockies themselves.

  The riders were in a perfect maze of valleys, and woods, and mountainstreams, and hills; a maze from which it seemed well-nigh impossible todisentangle themselves. Yet, with her trained eyes, and wonderfulinborn knowledge of hill-craft, Hazel piloted their course withouthesitation, without question. The whole region was an open book to herin the summer time. For miles and miles through that broken land sheknew every headland, every shadowy wood, every green valley andgurgling stream. As she often told Gordon, it was her world--her homeand her world, it belonged to her.

  "But I should lose myself in five minutes," Gordon protested, as theyswung out of the valley and into a narrow cutting between twosheer-faced cliffs, overgrown with scrub and small bush, which lefthardly any room for their horses along the banks of a trickling brookwhich divided them.

  "Surely you would," Hazel, who was now in the lead, called back overher shoulder. "And I guess I should just as soon lose my way in yourwonderful New York. You follow right along, and I'll promise to bringyou home by supper." Then, with laughing anxiety, "But for goodness'sake don't lose our lunch out of your saddle bags. We'll be starvingafter another hour of this."

  The warning startled Gordon into an apprehensive survey of his saddlebags. They were quite secure, however, and he followed closely on themare's heels.

  Quickly it became apparent that the
y were traveling a well-worn cattlepath overgrown by the low scrub. It was difficult, but Hazel followedit unfalteringly. Half a mile up this narrow, the great facets of thehills on either side began to close in on them, and still further aheadGordon discovered that they almost met overhead, the narrowest possiblecrack alone dividing them.

  He was wondering in which direction lay their way out of such ahopeless cul-de-sac when he saw Hazel suddenly bend her body low overher mare's neck, and, at the same moment, she called back a warning tohim.

  "'Ware overhead rocks!" she cried.

  Gordon instantly followed her example, and kept close behind her as sheentered a passage which was practically a tunnel. Now theirdifficulties were increased tenfold. The tunnel, in spite of thenarrow split in its roof, was almost dark. The low bush completely hidthe track and the little tumbling creek beside the path had deepened toa six-foot cut bank.

  Gordon became troubled. But it was not for himself so much as forHazel. His horse, Sunset, was steady as a rock, but the brown mareahead was as timid as a kitten. He glanced anxiously at the figure ofthe girl. The journey seemed not to trouble her one bit. Her mare,too, considering her timidity, was wonderfully steady. No doubt it wasthe result of perfect confidence in the clever little creature on herback, he thought. His gaze passed still further ahead. He was lookingfor the termination of this mysterious winding tunnel. But twentyyards was the limit of his vision and, so far, no end was in sight.

  Suddenly Hazel's merry laugh came echoing back to him.

  "Say, isn't this a great place?" she cried. "It's like one of thoseenchanted lands you read of in fairy books." Then she added a furtherwarning. "Keep low. We're nearly through."

  The horses scrambled on in the semi-darkness. But for Gordon theenchantment of the place was passing, and he was glad to know they werenearly through.

  A few minutes later he saw Hazel begin to straighten herself up in thesaddle. He followed her example with some caution and considerablerelief. The roof was becoming higher, so, too, was the lightincreasing. Gordon breathed a sigh.

  "I don't know about the lunch," he said. "I've bumped the walls forsome considerable time. Is there much more of it?"

  But before Hazel's reply could reach him his inquiry was answered bythe cavern itself. All in an instant they rounded a bend and adazzling beam of sunlight banished the darkness and nearly blinded him.Two minutes later he pushed his way through a dense screen of willows,and emerged upon the bank of a beautiful, serene lake of absolutelytransparent, sunlit water.

  "Behold the spring which is the source of that little stream," criedHazel, indicating the lake spread out before them. "Isn't it afairy-book picture? Look round you. Oh, say, I just love it to death."

  Gordon gazed about him in wonder. The lake was quite small, but itssetting was as beautiful as any artist could have painted it. Allaround it, on two-thirds of its circumference, a hundred differentshades of green illumined the wonderful tangled vegetation. He lookedfor the place from which they had emerged. It was completely hidden.Gone, vanished as if by magic. All that remained were the great hillsat the back and the wooded banks of the lake at their feet.

  He looked down at the water. Clear, clear; it was clear as crystal.Then he turned towards the sun, and something of the wonder of it allthrilled him. A sea, a calm, unruffled sea of the greenest grass hehad ever beheld stretched out before him. Or was it a broad river ofgrass? Yes, it was a wide river, perhaps two miles wide, with greatmountainous banks on either side. To him they seemed to be standing atits source, and its flow carried his gaze away on towards the west,where, above all, miles and miles away, shone the white peaks of themountains.

  The banks of this superb valley were deeply wooded from the base to thesoaring summits. Only were the hues of the foliage varied. Right atthe foot the green was bright, but less bright than the tall sweetgrass. While higher, the dark foliage of pine woods rose somberly onstately towering blackened trunks.

  At last Gordon turned back to the girl, who had sat watching the intentexpression of his face.

  "Tell me," he said, and he made a comprehensive gesture with one hand.

  Hazel was waiting only for that sign.

  Hazel Was Waiting for That Sign]

  "Where we stand now we are twenty miles from the ranch," she said."The only other outlet to this valley is twenty miles further on to thewest. If you could not find our secret passage again, you would haveto travel sixty miles through the most amazing country to get backhome."

  "Sixty miles back?" Gordon muttered.

  "Sure," returned Hazel. Then she laughed. "Even then, unless you'dbeen pretty well born in these hills you'd never find the way."

  Gordon nodded, and glanced in the direction whence they had come.There was not a sign of the tunnel to be seen. The foliage screenlooked impenetrable. He began to smile.

  "And your cattle station?" he questioned.

  "Come on."

  Hazel turned her mare away, and set off at a brisk canter. Shefollowed the line of the hills at the edge of the wide plain of sweetgrass.

  Gordon followed her, marveling at the place, but more still at hisguide. A quarter of an hour's gallop under the shade of the mostamazingly beautiful woods he ever remembered to have seen, brought themto a clearing, in the midst of which stood a smallish frame house. Itwas more or less surrounded by a number of large, heavy-timberedcorrals. The whole place was perfectly hidden by the screen of woodsfrom view of the valley beyond.

  Hazel leaped out of the saddle and passed hurriedly into the house.Next minute she returned with two picket ropes.

  "We'll picket them both while we eat and get a peek around the place.We aren't yearning for a twenty-mile tramp back."

  Gordon agreed. He remained silent while they off-saddled and securedtheir horses beyond the woods on the open grass. He was thinking hard.He was reviewing the purpose which had brought them to this wonderfuloutworld hiding-place. Nor were his thoughts wholly free from doubtsand qualms.

  At length the work was done. Their saddle blankets were laid out todry in the sun, and the saddle bags were emptied of the ample lunchHazel had carefully provided.

  The girl was entirely mistress of the situation. Gordon felt hishelplessness out here in the secret heart of nature.

  "Shall we eat first or----?" Hazel broke off questioningly.

  "Can't we look around the house while the kettle boils?" inquiredGordon, looking up from the fire he had kindled after some difficulty.He was kneeling on the bare, dusty ground which had been trodden by thehoofs of thousands of cattle in the past.

  The girl nodded. Her delight in being this man's cicerone wassuperlative. This was different from the days she had spent with DavidSlosson.

  "Sure. Come on," she cried. "And there's a well out back where we canfill the kettle."

  They hurried off to the well, and, between them, rather like twochildren, they filled the kettle. Then they returned and placed it onthe fire, and again approached the house.

  It was a squat, roomy structure of the ordinary frame type, but it wasin perfect preservation even to its paint, and Hazel pointed this outas they approached.

  "You see this was my daddy's first home," she said. "It's where I wasborn." She drew a deep, happy sigh. "I seem to remember every stickof it. And my daddy, why, he just loves it, too. That's why, thoughwe don't use it now, he has it painted every year, and kept clean. Yousee, when my daddy built this for my momma he hadn't a pile of dollars.It was just all he could afford, and he didn't ever guess he'd have agreat deal to spend on a home. We lived here years, and our cattlegrazed out in the valley beyond. I used to spend my whole time on theback of a small broncho mare, chasing up and down the hills and woods.And that's how I found that tunnel we came through. My, but I do lovethis little place!"

  "It's great," agreed Gordon warmly. "I'd call it a--a poet's home."

  The girl flung open the front door and led the way in. InstantlyGordon
had the surprise of his life. It was furnished. Completely andcomfortably furnished. What was more, the furniture, though old, wasin perfect repair, and the room looked as though it had been recentlyoccupied.

  "When you said 'disused,'" Gordon exclaimed, "I--I--thought it would beempty."

  The girl smiled a little sadly.

  "No," she said. "We couldn't forsake it. It would be like forgettingmy poor momma. No. The furniture and things are just as we used themwhen she was with us."

  She passed from the parlor to the bedrooms, and the lean-to kitchen andwashhouse. Everything was in perfect order, except for a slight dustwhich had gathered.

  "You see, Hip-Lee and one of the choremen and I can fix it up in a dayready for occupation. That's how my daddy likes to have it. My daddyloved our lovely momma. I don't guess he'll ever get over losing her."Then she looked up, and her shadow of sadness had gone. "Come along,"she cried. "You've seen it all. So we'll just shut it up again, andget back to our camp. I'm guessing that kettle'll be boiled dry."

  But the kettle was only just on the boil, and the girl made the teawhile Gordon set out the food and plates. Then, when all was ready,they sat down to their _tete-a-tete_ picnic with all the enjoyment oftwo children, but with that between them which seemed to fill the wholeair of the valley with an intoxicating sense of happiness and delight.

  "And what about that other place--that log and adobe shack you told meof?" demanded Gordon, taking his tea-cup from the girl's hand.

  Hazel laughed.

  "That's a dandy shack, full of ants and crawly things, and its roofleaks water. It's up on a hill where the wind just blows pneumoniathrough it. If I showed it you I sort of reckon you'd be scared to useit for--for anything."

  Gordon joined in her laugh.

  "I guess it'll be the real thing for my job. Say, don't you sort offeel like a criminal? I do." He laughed again as he passed the plateof cut meats to his companion.

  "Criminals?" laughed Hazel buoyantly. "Why, I just feel as if you andmy daddy and I were all hanging by the neck on the highest peak of theRockies. Say, you're sure--sure of things?"

  "I guess there's nothing sure in this world, except that no saint wasever a financial genius. Sure? Say, how can we be sure till we'vefixed things the way we want 'em? But I tell you we've got to makegood. I won't believe we can fail. We mustn't fail. If only Petercan get hold of Slosson's messages. Only one will do. If he can dothat, and it's what I expect, why--the whole thing becomes just apractical joke, only not so harmful."

  Gordon attacked his food with a healthy appetite, and the girl watchedhim happily.

  "It's the cleverest thing ever," she cried, "and--and I can't think howyou thought of it, and, having thought of it--dared to attempt to carryit out."

  Gordon smiled.

  "I'm not clever, but--I did think of it, didn't I? And as to carryingit out, why, I guess we're the same as the others. We're 'sharps.'We're land pirates. We're ground sharks."

  Hazel set her cup down.

  "But you are clever. I didn't mean it that way."

  "You're the first person ever told me."

  "Am I?" Hazel blushed. Nor did she know why. Gordon, watching her,sat entranced.

  "Sure. Most everybody reckons I'm just a--a bit of an athlete--that'sall. My sister Gracie never gets tired of telling me what anall-sorts-of-fool I am."

  "How old is your--Gracie?"

  "Thirteen."

  "That makes a diff'rence."

  "Oh, she doesn't get it all her own way," laughed Gordon. "I hide herchocolates. That makes her mad. She's a passion for candy. But theold dad is a bully feller. He's all sorts of a sportsman, and heguesses that the best day in his life will be the one in which he findsI'm not a fool."

  Hazel gurgled merrily.

  "That'll come along soon."

  Gordon nodded.

  "Gee! It makes me laugh to think of it. But say," he went on, amoment later, "I'm glad you don't think me a fool. I'm just longingfor----" But he broke off and abruptly rose from the ground. Theirmeal was finished. "Do we wash things or do we just pack 'em up?"

  "Oh, we'll pack 'em," said Hazel, rising hastily. A sort of nervoushurry was in her movement. "We won't rob the choreman and Hip-Lee oftheir rights. Say, you bring up the horses, and I'll pack. We canwater them at the lake as we pass out--the horses, I mean."

  A few minutes later Gordon returned with the horses.

  As he rounded the bend in the now overgrown track, which had onceformed the main approach to the little ranch, and caught sight of thegraceful fawn-clad figure moving about, he stood for a moment to feasthis eyes upon the picture the girl made. She was all he had everdreamed of in life. There was nothing of the delicate exotic here,none of the graceful gowning of a city, concealing an unhealthy bodyreduced almost to infirmity by the unwholesome night life of modernsocial demands. She was just a living example of the grace with whichNature so readily endows those who obey her wonderful, helpful laws.The perfect contours, the elasticity of gait, the clear, keen,beautiful eyes, and the pretty tanning under the shade of herwide-brimmed hat.

  The beating of the man's heart quickened. All his feelings rose, andset him longing to tell her all that was in his heart. He wanted thenand there to become her champion for all time. A great passionate waveset the warm blood of youth surging to his head. He felt that shebelonged to him, and him alone. Had he not fought for her as thosewarriors of old would have done? Yes, somehow he felt that she washis, but, with a strange cowardice, he feared to put his fate to thetest through words which could never express half of all he felt. Helonged and feared, and he told himself----

  But Hazel was looking in his direction. She saw him standing there,and peremptorily summoned him to her presence.

  "For goodness' sake," she cried. "Dreaming when there's work to bedone. Bring them right along, or we'll never get started. There's alltwenty miles before supper."

  Gordon hurried forward, and as he came up he made his excuses.

  "I had to look," he said apologetically. "You see it isn't every day afeller gets a chance to see a real picture--like I've seen. Say, thesehills, I guess, can hand all that Nature can paint that way, but youneed a human life in it to make a picture real to just an ordinaryman's eyes. I--had to look."

  But Hazel seemed to have become suddenly aware of something of thatwhich lay behind his words, and she hastily, and with flushed cheeks,turned to the work of saddling her horse. Gordon attempted to help,but she laughingly declined any aid. She pointed at the saddle bags onhis saddle.

  "They're packed," she said. "Say, I'll show you how to refold yourblanket. This way."

  Gordon spent some delicious moments struggling with his blanket underthe girl's superintendence, and his regret was all too genuine when, atlast, it was placed on Sunset's back with the saddle on the top of it.As for the mare, she was saddled and bitted in the time it took him tocinch Sunset up. By the time he had adjusted the bit Hazel was in thesaddle, gazing down at his efforts with merry, laughing eyes.

  "It does seem queer," she said. "Here are you, big and strong, andcapable of most anything. Yet it puzzles you around a saddle--which isso simple."

  Gordon climbed into his saddle at last, and smiled round at her.

  "I'm learning more than I ever guessed I'd learn when I left New York.I've learned a heap of things, and you've taught me most of them.Sometime I'll have to tell you all you've taught me, and then--andthen, why, I guess maybe you'll wonder." He laughed as they moved off.But somehow Hazel kept her eyes averted.

  "Now for the enchanted tunnel again," he cried, in a less serious mood."More enchantment, more delight! And then--then to the seriouscriminal work we have on hand. Criminal. It sounds splendid. Itsounds exciting. We're conspirators of the deepest dye."