t little girl in the world."

"I wish she could have cared for you--THAT way--like your voice
sounds," murmured Lahoma.

"Maybe she can," Wilfred's voice grew firmer. "Yes--she MUST!"

"Have you found a gold-mine?"

"What are you talking about, Lahoma? What has a gold-mine to do with
it?"

"Because nothing else goes," returned Lahoma decisively. "You might
get single statehood for Oklahoma, and write the constitution yourself,
and be elected governor--but you'd look just the same to Annabel,
unless you had a gold-mine."

Wilfred gave a jerk at his bridle. "Who's talking about Annabel?" he
cried rather sharply. He had forgotten that there was an Annabel.

"Everybody is," returned Lahoma, somewhat sharply on her own account,
"everybody is, or ought to be!"

"_I_ am not," retorted Wilfred, springing to the ground just in
time--for his horse, on being checked, had promptly lain down.

"Then that's what you get!" remarked Lahoma severely, staring down at
the dark blur on the trail which her imagination correctly interpreted
as the horse stretched out on its side.

CHAPTER XXI

THE NORTHER

The wind increased in fury. Fortunately it was at their back. Wilfred
pressed forward on foot, leading Lahoma's horse; and, partly on account
of their unequal position, partly because of awkward reserve, no more
was said for a long time. She bent forward to shelter her face from
the stinging blast while he trod firmly and methodically on and on,
braced slightly backward against the wind, which was like a hand
pushing him forward.

The voice of the wind filled the night. It whistled and shrieked in
minor keys, dying away at brief intervals to come again with a rush and
roar. It penetrated him to the bone, for he had compelled her to wrap
herself in his overcoat, and when the first stinging grains of fiercely
driven sleet pelted his cheek, he smothered a cry of dismay over her
exposed situation.

It could not be far past midnight. The prospect of a snow-storm in the
bleak lands of the Kiowa appalled him, but even while facing that
possibility his mind was busy with Lahoma's attitude toward himself.
Evidently it had never occurred to her that Annabel had vanished from
his fancy years ago; now that she knew, she was displeased--most
unreasonably so, he thought. Lahoma did not approve of Annabel--why
should she want him to remain passively under her yoke? Unconsciously
his form stiffened in protest as he trudg