sleep
from her eyes in the icy waters of the river, it was not to cook, but to
sit down at one of Ah Sin's little tables and eat a glorious breakfast.

"You perfect darling!" she cried happily and ran and kissed Bud though the
Chinaman was looking on.

During breakfast she noticed the work going forward on the other side of
the river and asked Bud about it.

"The cowmen moved their camp down here opposite us as soon as they could
find out where we were," he explained. "I guess they want to talk with me
regarding several matters. I'm pretty sure I have a thing or two to say to
them, now that I am out of their clutches."

"Oh, then my father must be among those men."

"He must, although I have not seen him. I intend to take you over to him
immediately after breakfast."

Suddenly for the first time, the girl's face clouded; through their sweet
bantering pierced the hideous visage of the thing that haunted her and
that she had come to ask him about.

"Talk to me a little while first, will you?" she pleaded. "You know I came
to see you for a special reason last night but had no time to discuss it
then."

"Certainly, dear girl," he replied.

When they had finished eating they strolled a little way up the noisy
stream and finally found a cozy nook between two trees. All about them in
the succulent grass of the banks and river bottoms they could hear the
bells and contented blethering of the flocks; for Sims had determined to
rest his animals for a few days before starting again the long trek
north.

"Bud," she began, speaking slowly so as to choose her words, "I am going
to ask you questions about things that you have never chosen to discuss
with me for some reason I could not fathom. If it is unmaidenly I am
sorry, but I must ask them. I cannot stand any more such anxiety and pain
as I have suffered in the last few weeks."

Bud's features settled themselves into an expression of thought that told
the girl absolutely nothing.

"Yes, go on," he said.

"First I want you to read this note," she continued, drawing a soiled bit
of paper from the bosom of her dress. "A photographer called Skidmore was
held up by the rustlers and asked to bring it to the Bar T and give it to
me."

Her hand trembled a little as she held the paper out to him. He took it
gravely, unfolded and read it.

Then he smiled his old winning smile at her and kissed the hand she had
extended.

"Lies! All lies!" he said. "Please think no more