Shaw as it would to let her play with one of these
rattlesnakes we are going to see in Oraibi the day after to-morrow, not
knowing how deadly they were."

"Who'll tell her? Will you?"

"I? How can I do it. No. But it would seem quite the thing for you or
your mother------"

"Mother doesn't know him," Walter interrupted somewhat curtly. "I don't
see how I can say anything," Walter went on, with the caution many
school boys feel about telling on others. "I really believe Helen is
capable of protecting herself. And one of the quickest ways to get a
girl interested in a man is to hint that he is not as good as he might
be."

"That's your philosophy imbibed from your six best sellers," retorted
Felix. Walter was a constant novel reader. "I am going to have a talk
with your mother about the whole affair. She will know what to do."

"Will you tell her how you feel about Helen?"

Felix winced.

"She knows already."

"Oh, you have told her."

"No, she knows without my telling."

"Have you spoken to Helen?"

The colour swept up over Bauer's face.

"No, and I never will."

"Does she know?" Walter persisted.

"I looked at her once," faltered Bauer, and for the soul of him Walter
could not help roaring out at him.

As they rose to make their way to the wagons which had halted in a group
to wait for them and others who had fallen behind, Walter smote Bauer on
the back.

"Courage, old man. The case is not all hopeless. If you have got as far
as a look, that's progress. What did Helen do?"

But Bauer drew into his reserve at this point and gravely refused to
talk any more, and Walter did not venture to insist. Only, as they were
going to their wagons Bauer simply said, "I shall tell your mother. It
would not be right not to let her know."

"I don't know what mother can do about it," Walter replied dubiously.

"Mrs. Douglas is very wise." said Bauer. To that Walter made no answer,
and they joined the rest of the party without further words.

That night the two camps were pitched close together, and two fires
burned like red specks in the holes dug for the sagebrush and cedar
roots. The chuck wagon in which Helen had been riding was left standing
close by the tent pitched for her mother and Mrs. Masters. She seemed
unusually cheerful and in answer to many inquiries assured all that she
was resting easily and was nearly free from pain.

After the camp meal was over and the desert grey of the soft night had
be