here and there
where she might have rested, but she pushed on unceasing.

At daybreak she fell in with a settler going to Askatoon with his dogs.
Seeing how exhausted she was, he made her ride a few miles upon his
sledge; then she sped on ahead again till she came to the borders of
Askatoon.

People were already in the streets, and all were tending one way. She
stopped and asked the time. It was within a quarter of an hour of the time
when Haman was to pay another's penalty. She spurred herself on, and came
to the jail blind with fatigue. As she neared the jail she saw her father
and Mickey. In amazement her father hailed her, but she would not stop.
She was admitted to the prison on explaining that she had a reprieve.
Entering a room filled with excited people, she heard a cry.

It came from Ba'tiste. He had arrived but ten minutes before, and, in the
Sheriff's presence, had discovered his loss. He had appealed in vain.

But now, as he saw the girl, he gave a shout of joy which pierced the
hearts of all.

"Ah, you haf it! Say you haf it, or it is no use--he mus' hang.
Spik--spik! Ah, my brudder--it is to do him right! Ah, Loisette--_bon
Dieu, merci!_"

For answer she placed the reprieve in the hands of the Sheriff. Then she
swayed and fell fainting at the feet of Ba'tiste.

She had come at the stroke of the hour.

When she left for her home again the Sheriff kissed her.

And that was not the only time he kissed her. He did it again six months
later, at the beginning of the harvest, when she and Ba'tiste Caron
started off on the long trail of life together. None but Ba'tiste knew the
truth about the loss of the reprieve, and to him she was "beautibul" just
the same, and greatly to be desired.

[Illustration: SHE SWAYED AND FELL FAINTING AT THE FEET OF BA'TISTE]

BUCKMASTER'S BOY

"I bin waitin' for him, an' I'll git him ef it takes all winter. I'll get
him--plumb."

The speaker smoothed the barrel of his rifle with mittened hand, which
had, however, a trigger-finger free. With black eyebrows twitching over
sunken gray eyes, he looked doggedly down the frosty valley from the ledge
of high rock where he sat. The face was rough and weather-beaten, with the
deep tan got in the open life of a land of much sun and little cloud, and
he had a beard which, untrimmed and growing wild, made him look ten years
older than he was.

"I bin waitin' a durn while," the mountain-man added, and got to his feet
sl