and smoked, while his horse, with girths
loosened, and bit removed from its mouth, grazed joyfully near by.

And then he slept. The peace of the prairie world got hold of him; the
profound silence lulled his fagged nerves, his pipe went out, and he
slept.

He awoke with a start. Nor, for the moment, did he know where he was.
His pipe had fallen from his mouth, and he found himself stretched
full length upon the ground. But something unusual had awakened him,
and when he had gathered his scattered senses he looked about him to
ascertain what the nature of the disturbance had been. The next moment
a laughing voice hailed him.

"Is this the way you learn ranching, Mr. Tresler? Oh, shame! Sleeping
the glorious hours of sunshine away."

It was the rich, gentle voice of Diane Marbolt, and its tone was one
of quiet raillery. She was gazing down at him from the back of her
sturdy broncho mare, Bessie, with eyes from which, for the moment at
least, all sadness had vanished.

Just now her lips were wreathed in a bright smile, and her soft brown
eyes were dancing with a joyous light, which, when Tresler had first
seen her, had seemed impossible to them. She was out on the prairie,
on the back of her favorite, Bessie; she was away from the ranch, from
the home that possessed so many cares for her. She was out in her
world, the world she loved, the world that was the only world for her,
breathing the pure, delicious air which, even in moments of profound
unhappiness, had still power to carry her back to the days of happy,
careless childhood; had still power to banish all but pleasant
thoughts, and to bestow upon her that wild sense of freedom such as is
only given to those who have made their home on its virgin bosom.

Tresler beheld this girl now in her native mood. He saw before him the
true child of the prairie such as she really was. She was clad in a
blue dungaree habit and straw sun-hat, and he marveled at the
ravishing picture she made. He raised himself upon his elbow and
stared at her, and a sensation of delight swept over him as he
devoured each detail of face and figure. Then, suddenly, he was
recalled to his senses by the abrupt fading of the smile from the face
before him; and he flushed with a rueful sense of guiltiness.

"Fairly caught napping, Miss Marbolt," he said, in confusion. "I
acknowledge the sloth, but not the implied laxness anent ranching.
Believe me, I have learned an ample lesson to-day. I now hav