at moment of
suspense, about the faithful, exhausted horses. As he unsaddled them he
talked: "Fer soft an' fat hosses, winterin' high up, wal, you've done
somethin'!"

Then Dale heard a voice in another room, a step, a creak of the door. It
opened. A woman in white appeared. He recognized Helen. But instead of
the rich brown bloom and dark-eyed beauty so hauntingly limned on
his memory, he saw a white, beautiful face, strained and quivering in
anguish, and eyes that pierced his heart. He could not speak.

"Oh! my friend--you've come!" she whispered.

Dale put out a shaking hand. But she did not see it. She clutched his
shoulders, as if to feel whether or not he was real, and then her arms
went up round his neck.

"Oh, thank God! I knew you would come!" she said, and her head sank to
his shoulder.

Dale divined what he had suspected. Helen's sister had been carried off.
Yet, while his quick mind grasped Helen's broken spirit--the unbalance
that was reason for this marvelous and glorious act--he did not
take other meaning of the embrace to himself. He just stood there,
transported, charged like a tree struck by lightning, making sure with
all his keen senses, so that he could feel forever, how she was clinging
round his neck, her face over his bursting heart, her quivering form
close pressed to his.

"It's--Bo," he said, unsteadily.

"She went riding yesterday--and--never--came--back!" replied Helen,
brokenly.

"I've seen her trail. She's been taken into the woods. I'll find her.
I'll fetch her back," he replied, rapidly.

With a shock she seemed to absorb his meaning. With another shock she
raised her face--leaned back a little to look at him.

"You'll find her--fetch her back?"

"Yes," he answered, instantly.

With that ringing word it seemed to Dale she realized how she was
standing. He felt her shake as she dropped her arms and stepped back,
while the white anguish of her face was flooded out by a wave of
scarlet. But she was brave in her confusion. Her eyes never fell, though
they changed swiftly, darkening with shame, amaze, and with feelings he
could not read.

"I'm almost--out of my head," she faltered.

"No wonder. I saw that.... But now you must get clear-headed. I've no
time to lose."

He led her to the door.

"John, it's Bo that's gone," he called. "Since yesterday.... Send the
boy to get me a bag of meat an' bread. You run to the corral an' get
me a fresh horse. My old horse Ranger if y