East. "I think," he replied,
"there are more of us who have left a good deal behind back yonder.
Perhaps it's fortunate that the thing is possible."

Then he swung his axe again, and Gordon, who saw Waynefleet
approaching, strolled away towards the ranch-owner.

CHAPTER IV

LAURA WAYNEFLEET'S WISH

It was a hot summer evening, and a drowsy, resinous fragrance stole
out of the shadowy bush when Nasmyth, who had now spent six months at
Waynefleet's ranch, lay among the wineberries by the river-side.
Across the strip of sliding water the sombre firs rose in a great
colonnade from the grey rock's crest, with the fires of sunset blazing
behind their wide-girthed trunks. The river was low and very clear,
and the sound of it seemed to intensify the solemn stillness of the
Bush. Nasmyth had come there to fish, after a long day of tolerably
arduous labour, but he did not expect much success, though the trout
rise freely just after sunset in those rivers. Indeed, he had almost
forgotten that the rod and net lay near his side, for his employer's
daughter sat on a fallen cedar not far away from him.

She had laid her hat aside, and, as it happened, two humming-birds
that flashed, bejewelled, in a ray of ruddy light hung poised on
invisible wings about the clustered blossoms of an arrow-bush that
drooped above her head. She was, however, not looking at them, but
watching Nasmyth with thoughtful eyes. Everything she wore was the
work of her own fingers, but the light print dress became her
curiously well.

"You have been here six months now," she said.

"I have," answered Nasmyth, with a little laugh. "I almost venture to
think I do you credit, in view of the state I was in when I reached
the ranch. If you hadn't taken me in hand, two or three days would
probably have been the length of my stay."

The girl made no disclaimer. She was one who admitted facts, even
when they did not chime with her wishes, and she still regarded
Nasmyth thoughtfully. He certainly did her credit, so far as his
physical appearance went, for his strength had fully come back to him,
and, as he lay among the wineberries in an easy pose, his thin duck
garments displayed the fine proportions of a figure that had been
trained almost to muscular perfection by strenuous labour. The light
of the paling sunset was on his bronzed face, and it revealed the
elusive delicacy that characterized it. Nasmyth was certainly a
well-favoured man, but there w