e good enough for you?"

She found power of speech.

"I never--I don't think that I'm too good for you!" Her Rubicon was
crossed. It was a strangely long time before he kissed her, but the
silent interval after the kiss was stranger and longer still.

"Tell me what you plan for our future, Bertram, for I am afraid!" she
whispered at length.

"It's got to be a wait--that's the risk you take with a comer. I'll go
on twice as fast for you. What do you want--shall we tell about it,
girlikins?"

"As you wish, Bertram."

"I guess we'd better not, then--not until the old Judge gets his back
down. Let's have it just between me and my little girl.

"Say!" he added, the sentiment blowing out of his tone, "what was the
matter, anyhow, that night on the restaurant balcony? Why did you turn
me down then, and what made you so sore? I've never quite got to your
thoughts, you know. But I'm going to!" He drew her closer. "Every one
of them!"

She dropped her face on his shoulder.

"Ah, we've so many things to talk about, Bertram, and there's so much
time! I've been a girl that didn't know her mind. Shan't we let that
rest now? Shan't we be contented with what to-day has brought you and
me?"

A film clouded his face.

"Yes--if you want it that way."

"Hoo-ooo-ooo!" Clear and high, but quavering, a masculine voice was
calling across the ridge. Eleanor sprang up.

"That's Uncle Edward--it's dinner-time--do you want him to find
you--you'd better go!"

He stood as though considering.

"All right. When are you going back?"

"We catch the seven train to-morrow afternoon at Santa Eliza."

"Darn! I'd engaged to take on the five-ten at Las Olivas. I've half a
notion to change and join you and see what the old man says--"

"No, Bertram, it's better not. We'll find a way. Go now!"

"You bet we will--good bye, girlikins!" He made no move to kiss her
again; he turned and crashed down the trail.

Eleanor sped up the trail. Safe on the summit of the ridge, her secret
hidden behind her, she answered the call. Then she dared look back at
the figure vanishing in deep shadow below. Her expression and
attitude, soft-eyed and drooping though they were, showed other
emotions than unmixed happiness.

CHAPTER XIV

Judge Tiffany turned from a consideration of the hillside to a closer
consideration of Eleanor, who rode beside him in the Goodyear trap.
She sat very straight, her hands folded in her lap, her grave, grey
eyes s