to them. He turned to Joanne, and he saw that she understood. They were at
their journey's end. Perhaps her fingers gripped her rein a little more
tightly. Perhaps it was imagination that made him think there was a slight
tremble in her voice when she said:

"This--is the place?"

"Yes. It should be just above the timber. I believe I can see the upper
break of the little box canyon Keller told me about."

She rode without speaking until they entered the timber. They were just in
time. As he lifted her down from her horse the clouds opened, and the rain
fell in a deluge. Her hair was wet when he got her in the tent. MacDonald
had spread out a number of blankets, but he had disappeared. Joanne sank
down upon them with a little shiver. She looked up at Aldous. It was almost
dark in the tent, and her eyes were glowing strangely. Over them the
thunder crashed deafeningly. For a few minutes it was a continual roar,
shaking the mountains with mighty reverberations that were like the
explosions of giant guns. Aldous stood holding the untied flap against the
beat of the rain. Twice he saw Joanne's lips form words. At last he heard
her say:

"Where is Donald?"

He tied the flap, and dropped down on the edge of the blankets before he
answered her.

"Probably out in the open watching the lightning, and letting the rain
drench him," he said. "I've never known old Donald to come in out of a
rain, unless it was cold. He was tying up the horses when I ran in here
with you."

He believed she was shivering, yet he knew she was not cold. In the half
gloom of the tent he wanted to reach over and take her hand.

For a few minutes longer there was no break in the steady downpour and the
crashing of the thunder. Then, as suddenly as the storm had broken, it
began to subside. Aldous rose and flung back the tent-flap.

"It is almost over," he said. "You had better remain in the tent a little
longer, Ladygray. I will go out and see if MacDonald has succeeded in
drowning himself."

Joanne did not answer, and Aldous stepped outside. He knew where to find
the old hunter. He had gone up to the end of the timber, and probably this
minute was in the little box canyon searching for the grave. It was a
matter of less than a hundred yards to the upper fringe of timber, and when
Aldous came out of this he stood on the summit of the grassy divide that
separated the tiny lake Keller had described from the canyon. It was less
than a rifle shot di