or not.

"I hope I have n't been keeping you up, Miss Janet," said Jonas.
"Whenever your time comes to turn in, go right along. Don't consider
me company."

"Oh, it was n't that; I was just wondering what time it is. Do you
suppose, Mr. Hicks, that he will have any difficulty finding that horse
and getting it back here? I should think he would get lost."

"How long has he been gone?"

"A little over an hour."

"Oh, that ain't bad. You can't lose Steve."

"No, of course not. I thought it was longer."

"What time is it?"

"Twenty minutes after ten by my watch. But I don't really know what
time it is."

"Well, there ain't much use knowin'. Time is queer anyway on a
prairie. Sometimes it takes a considerable while for it to go past.
And then again, as the other fellow said, 'Time is shorter than it is
long.' Maybe if you are sleepy you 'd better go to bed."

"Well--I believe I will. I don't suppose I had better wait any longer.
Will you find a place to sleep? Maybe you will want to use my slicker."

"Oh, I 'm all right. I 'll just chase away these cattle and roll in
under the wagon. And if you should hear me serrynadin' you with a
horse-fiddle after a while, don't be scared. That's me snoring. I 'm
what they call a sound sleeper."

"Good-night, Mr. Hicks."

"Same to you, Miss Janet."

CHAPTER XI

The sun, lifting his countenance above the horizon that morning,
centred his whole attention upon a pair of polished brass-bound hubs.
The rest of the scene, grass and flowers "in unrespective same," formed
a mere background on the general plane of existence while the sun
beamed upon the brass--delighted, no doubt, to find an affinity in this
unexpected place.

We accentuate the detail slightly, our reason being that Janet,
whenever she had occasion to tell how it all happened, was sure to make
mention of the brass hubs. Unconscious as she may have been of it at
the time, the hubs commanded the scene and formed the shining
high-light of memory's picture; and as the years passed they took on a
still brighter polish.

The hubs belonged to a snug-looking Rockaway buggy. Hitched to the
buggy was her own horse, which was tied to a post of the corral. The
gate of the corral was open and the sheep were gone. Jonas's outfit
was gone too; there was nobody in sight.

As she stood looking and wondering, Steve emerged from the gully; and
having saluted her in his usual manner he began to explai