he did not for a moment connect any of them
with the disappearance of his belt. He was too well acquainted with
the character of the men who are hewing the clearings out of the great
forests of the Pacific slope. As a matter of fact, he never did
discover what became of his belt.

"Well," he said, "I suppose I forgot to put it on, one of those
mornings on the march. Still, it's not very astonishing that the
thing should worry me. I can't expect to stay on at this ranch. When
do you think I can get up and set out again?"

"How long have you been out here?"

"Been out?"

Gordon laughed. "You're from the Old Country--that's plain enough."

"Several years."

"In that case I'm not going to tell you we're not likely to turn you
out until you have some strength in you. I believe I'm speaking for
Miss Waynefleet now."

Nasmyth lay still and considered this. It was, at least, quite evident
that he could not get up yet, but there were one or two other points
that occurred to him.

"Does the ranch belong to Miss Waynefleet?" he inquired. "She can't
live here alone."

"She runs the concern. She has certainly a father, but you'll
understand things more clearly when you see him. He's away in
Victoria, which is partly why Mrs. Custer from the settlement is now
in yonder room. Her husband is at present building a trestle on the
Dunsmore track. I come up here for only an hour every day."

Nasmyth afterwards discovered that this implied a journey of three or
four miles either way over a very indifferent trail, but at the moment
he was thinking chiefly of Miss Waynefleet, who had given him
shelter.

"You practise at the settlement?" he asked.

"Yes," said his companion dryly, "chopping big trees. I've a ranch
there. Still, I don't know that you could exactly call it practising.
By this time, I've acquired a certain proficiency in the thing."

Nasmyth fancied that he must have gone to sleep soon after this, for
when he opened his eyes again there was no sign of the doctor, and a
girl was quietly moving about the room. She sat down, when she saw
that he was awake, and looked at him with a little smile, and it was
only natural that Nasmyth should also look at her. It struck him once
more that she had wonderful hair. In the lamp-light, it seemed to glow
with curious red-gold gleams. She had also quiet brown eyes, and a
face that was a trifle darkened by sun and wind. He guessed that she
was tall. She looked so as she moved a