rably well.

And then the miserable fellow of a smith had to come out and announce
that the stranger's horse was ready.

"I'll warrant the shoe," said Bauer.

"You haven't lost any time," said Max, his regret evident to every one.

The girl smiled approvingly. She loved humor in a man, and this one
with the yellow hair and blue eyes seemed to possess a fund of the dry
sort. All this was very wrong, she knew, but she wasn't going to be
the princess this morning; she was going to cast off the shell of
artificiality, of etiquette.

"How much will this shoe cost me?" Max asked.

"Half a crown," said Bauer, with a sly glance at the girl to see how
she would accept so exorbitant a sum. The princess frowned. "But
sometimes," added Bauer hurriedly, "I do it for nothing."

"Bauer, your grandfather was a robber," the girl laughed. "Take heed
that you do not follow in his footsteps."

"I am a poor man, your--mm---Fraeulein," he stammered.

"Here's a crown," said Max, tossing a coin which was neatly caught by
the grimy hand of the smith.

"Are you very rich?" asked the girl curiously.

"Why?" counter-questioned Max.

"Oh, I am curious to know. Bauer will tell it to every one in
Barscheit that you overpay for things, and from now on you will have to
figure living on a basis of crowns."

It is worth any price to hear a pretty woman laugh. What a fine
beginning for a day!

"May misfortune be kind enough to bring you this way again, Herr!"
Bauer cried joyfully, not to say ambiguously.

"Listen to that!" laughed the girl, her eyes shining like the water in
the sun. "But he means only to thank your generosity. Now,"--with a
severe frown,--"how much do I owe you? Take care; I've only a few
pieces of silver in my purse."

"Why, Fraeulein, you owe me nothing; I am even in debt to you for this
very crown." Which proved that Bauer had had his lesson in
courtier-ship.

The assistant soon brought forth the girl's restive filly. Max sprang
to her aid. How light her foot was in his palm! (She could easily
have mounted alone, such was her skill; but there's the woman of it.)

"I am going toward the Pass," she said, reading the half-veiled appeal
in his blue eyes.

"Which way is that?" he asked, swinging into his own saddle.

"That way," nodding toward the south. After all, there could be no
harm; in two or three hours their paths would separate for ever.

"Why,"--delightedly,--"I am going that way myself."