ts by taking his riding as a matter of course; but
in her eyes was a look strangely like that of his wife's fond gaze,--a
look of pride at his achievement, rather than admiration.

"We'll ride ahead of the team to keep clear of the dust," she
remarked.

He twisted about and saw that Ashton was starting to drive after them.
His wife's elderly maid was waving her handkerchief from one of the
car windows. The porter and the manservant stood at attention. He
exchanged a nod and smile with his wife, patted Rocket's arched neck
and clicked to him to start.

"This is great, Miss Knowles!" he said. "I did not look for such fun,
first crack out of the box. And--if you don't mind my saying it--it's
such a jolly surprise your being what you are."

The girl blushed with pleasure. "I--we have been so eager to meet
you," she murmured. She added hurriedly, "On account of your wonderful
work as an engineer, you know."

"I wouldn't have suspected Ashton of bragging for me," he replied.

"Oh, he--he says you have a remarkable knack of hitting on the
solution of problems. But it's in the engineering journals and reports
that we've read about your work. Perhaps that is why you thought we
had met before. After reading about you so much, I felt that I already
knew you, and so my manner, you know--"

He shook his head at this seemingly ingenuous explanation. "No, there
is something about your voice and face--" His eyes clouded with
the grief of a painful memory; his head sank forward until his square
chin touched his broad chest. He muttered brokenly: "But that's
impossible.... Anyway--better for them they died--better than to
live after...."

Behind her veil the girl's face became deathly white. He raised his
head and looked at her with a wistful gleam of hope. She had averted
her face from him and was gazing off at the hills with dim unseeing
eyes.

"Pardon me, Miss Knowles," he said, "but do you mind if I ask what is
your first name?"

She hesitated almost imperceptibly before replying: "I am called
Chuckie--Chuckie Knowles. Doesn't that sound cowgirlish? We always
have a chuck-wagon on the round-ups, you know. But it's a name that
used to be quite common in the West."

"Yes, it comes from the Spanish Chiquita," he said. He repeated the
word with the soft caressing Spanish accent, "_Che-kee-tah!_"

A flood of scarlet swept up into the girl's pallid face, and slowly
subsided to her normal rich coloring. After a short silence