and hungry.

Desperately casting her eyes around the horizon to discover some way
out of her dilemma, Colina perceived a thin spiral of smoke rising
above the edge of the river bank about a quarter of a mile away.

She had no idea who could be camping on the river at this place, but
she instantly set off with her own confident assurance of finding aid.
Ginger displayed no inclination to leave the particular patch of
prairie grass he had chosen for his luncheon.

As Colina approached the edge of the bank she heard a voice. She
herself made no sound in the grass.

Looking over the edge she saw a man and a dog on the stony beach below,
both with their backs to her and oblivious of her approach. Of the
man, she had a glimpse only of a broad blue flannel back and a mop of
black hair.

She heard him say to the dog: "Our last meal alone, old fel'!
To-night, if we're lucky, we'll dine with her!"

This conveyed nothing to Colina--she was to remember it later.

In speaking he turned his profile, and she received an agreeable shock;
he was young; he was not common; he had a fair, pink skin that
contrasted oddly with his swarthy locks; his bold profile accorded with
her fancy.

What caught her off her guard was his affectionate, quizzical glance at
the dog.

It was a seductive glimpse of a stern face softened.

The dog scented her and barked; the man turning sprang to his feet.
Colina experienced a sudden and extraordinary confusion of her
faculties.

He was taller than she expected--that was not it; in the glance of his
eager dark eyes there was a quality that took her completely by
surprise--that took her breath away. This in one of the sex she
condescended to!

The young man was completely dumfounded by the sight of her. He hung
in suspended motion; his wide eyes leaped to hers--and clung there.
They silently gazed at each other--each with much the same pained and
breathless look.

Colina struggled hard against the spell. She was badly flustered.
"Please catch my horse for me," she said with, under the circumstances,
intolerable hauteur.

He did not move. She saw a dull, red tide creep up from his neck, over
his face and into his hair. She had never seen such a painful blush.
He kept his head up, and though his eyes became agonized with
embarrassment, they clung doggedly to hers.

She knew intuitively that he blushed because he fancied that she, from
his rough clothes, had judged him to be a common tr