ived her courage, and on a day about a week following
her previous trip, she herself saddled and bridled her pony and set out
over the Coyote trail toward her cabin.

She had not told Hollis of her intention to ride there, fearing that the
knowledge of what she had seen on the day of the other ride would be
revealed in her eyes. It was a good hour after noon when she stole out
of the house to her pony, mounted, and rode away toward the river.

For many days she had been wondering at Dunlavey's continued inaction.
He had been known as an energetic enemy, and though at their last
meeting in Dry Bottom he had threatened her and her brother, he had so
far made no hostile move. Uusually he would go a considerable distance
out of his way to speak to her. Perhaps, she thought, at their last
meeting she had shown him that he was wasting his time. Yet she could
not forget that day when she had seen Yuma and Dunlavey on the Circle
Cross side of the Rabbit-Ear. The sight somehow had been significant and
forbidding.

But when she reached her cabin she had forgotten Dunlavey and Yuma; her
thoughts dwelt upon more pleasant people. Had she done right in allowing
Hollis to see that she was interested in him? Would he think less of her
for revealing this interest? She could not answer these questions, but
she could answer another--one that brought the blushes to her cheeks.
Why had Hollis shown an interest in her? She had known this answer for a
long time--when she had read Ace's poem to him while sitting on the
porch beside him, to be perfectly accurate. She had pretended then to
take offense when he had assured her that Ace had succeeded in getting
much truth into his lines, especially into the first couplet, which ran:

"Woman--she don't need no tutor,
Be she school ma'am or biscuit shooter."

The language had not been graceful, nor the diction, yet she knew that
Ace had struck the mark fairly, for woman indeed needed no tutor to
teach her to understand man--woman had always understood him.

She dismounted from her pony at the edge of the porch, hitching the
animal to one of the slender porch columns. Then she went into the house
to gather up the few things that still remained there.

But for a long time after entering the cabin she sat on a chair in the
kitchen, sobbing softly, for now that Ed had gone she felt the
desolation of the country more than ever. Presently she rose and with a
start looked out of the door. Th