vice
to people. Nevertheless, he wanted to linger in this mountain fastness
until his ordeal was over--until he could meet her, and the world,
knowing himself more of a man than ever before.

One bright morning, while he was at his camp-fire, the tame cougar gave
a low, growling warning. Dale was startled. Tom did not act like that
because of a prowling grizzly or a straying stag. Presently Dale espied
a horseman riding slowly out of the straggling spruces. And with that
sight Dale's heart gave a leap, recalling to him a divination of his
future relation to his kind. Never had he been so glad to see a man!

This visitor resembled one of the Beemans, judging from the way he sat
his horse, and presently Dale recognized him to be John.

At this juncture the jaded horse was spurred into a trot, soon reaching
the pines and the camp.

"Howdy, there, you ole b'ar-hunter!" called John, waving his hand.

For all his hearty greeting his appearance checked a like response from
Dale. The horse was mud to his flanks and John was mud to his knees,
wet, bedraggled, worn, and white. This hue of his face meant more than
fatigue.

"Howdy, John?" replied Dale.

They shook hands. John wearily swung his leg over the pommel, but did
not at once dismount. His clear gray eyes were wonderingly riveted upon
the hunter.

"Milt--what 'n hell's wrong?" he queried.

"Why?"

"Bust me if you ain't changed so I hardly knowed you. You've been
sick--all alone here!"

"Do I look sick?"

"Wal, I should smile. Thin an' pale an' down in the mouth! Milt, what
ails you?"

"I've gone to seed."

"You've gone off your head, jest as Roy said, livin' alone here. You
overdid it, Milt. An' you look sick."

"John, my sickness is here," replied Dale, soberly, as he laid a hand on
his heart.

"Lung trouble!" ejaculated John. "With thet chest, an' up in this
air?... Get out!"

"No--not lung trouble," said Dale.

"I savvy. Had a hunch from Roy, anyhow."

"What kind of a hunch?"

"Easy now, Dale, ole man.... Don't you reckon I'm ridin' in on you
pretty early? Look at thet hoss!" John slid off and waved a hand at
the drooping beast, then began to unsaddle him. "Wal, he done great. We
bogged some comin' over. An' I climbed the pass at night on the frozen
snow."

"You're welcome as the flowers in May. John, what month is it?"

"By spades! are you as bad as thet?... Let's see. It's the twenty-third
of March."

"March! Well, I'm beat. I've lost