"I shan't get down," she told him, speaking in a lower tone than the
listening Canaanites approved of. "I was hoping that I might find you
here. Get on your horse and let's go to the woods. Wouldn't you like to?
The hills are one long glory to-day." It was not the note of her
prayer, it was well-ordered and calm. Still, Steering's heart leaped
like a boy's at her friendliness, and he began to speak his gratitude in
a lyric tune:

"Ah, what fortune! Just to be young and alive and off on the hills with
you!" he said, and vaulted to his horse's back from the curb, so easily
that even the Missourians who were candidly watching and listening,
remarked, "Oh, well, it's because he's got some Missouri in him, that's
why-for."

Side by side, the horses moved down Main Street. At the bank Crittenton
Madeira was standing at the plate-glass window. He had his thumbs in his
trousers pockets, and he was rocking to and fro, shifting his weight
from his heels to the balls of his feet peculiarly, as though seeking
for balance. His eyes were moodily thoughtful, and he kept snapping at
his lower lip with his big white teeth.

"Why, God bless you, Steering!" he cried pleasantly, moving out to the
curb as the horses came up, "I made a mistake in missing you at the
house yesterday. Want to see you again, as soon as I can. What about
to-night, young man? Going to get in home early, aren't you, Sally?"

"Yes, Dad, early."

"Well then, my boy, you just stop by the bank, when you get in from the
hills, will you? I shan't leave the bank before eight o'clock. Shan't be
home to supper, Honeyful."

"All right, Mr. Madeira, I'll come," assented Steering; "look for me
sometime before eight."

"All right, my boy. So long, Honeyful."

Again the horses moved off, side by side. Soon the town lay far behind
the riders, who were following the shimmering Di around the blue hills.
Where the road ran up the bluff into heavy timber they got into deep
odorous silences, the silences of young unspoiled places; musical, too,
somehow, over and beyond the stillness. Where the road came down to the
bottom land along the river the silence shook with the river's silver
mystery. No matter where the road ran, always off beyond them lay the
hills, ridge upon ridge, beautiful, glorious.

"Aren't they tremendous?" said the girl, "Aren't you glad they are
almost yours?" A sense of possession was indeed mounting into a cry of
rejoicing within Steering. He admitt