."

"Well, I wish it wasn't so dark. I'm not afraid of men in daylight....
Nell, did you ever see such a wonderful looking fellow? What'd they call
him? Milt--Milt Dale. He said he lived in the woods. If I hadn't fallen
in love with that cowboy who called me--well, I'd be a goner now."

After an interval of silence Bo whispered, startlingly, "Wonder if Harve
Riggs is following us now?"

"Of course he is," replied Helen, hopelessly.

"He'd better look out. Why, Nell, he never saw--he never--what did Uncle
Al used to call it?--sav--savvied--that's it. Riggs never savvied that
hunter. But I did, you bet."

"Savvied! What do you mean, Bo?"

"I mean that long-haired galoot never saw his real danger. But I felt
it. Something went light inside me. Dale never took him seriously at
all."

"Riggs will turn up at Uncle Al's, sure as I'm born," said Helen.

"Let him turn," replied Bo, contemptuously. "Nell, don't you ever bother
your head again about him. I'll bet they're all men out here. And I
wouldn't be in Harve Riggs's boots for a lot."

After that Bo talked of her uncle and his fatal illness, and from that
she drifted back to the loved ones at home, now seemingly at the other
side of the world, and then she broke down and cried, after which she
fell asleep on Helen's shoulder.

But Helen could not have fallen asleep if she had wanted to.

She had always, since she could remember, longed for a moving, active
life; and for want of a better idea she had chosen to dream of gipsies.
And now it struck her grimly that, if these first few hours of her
advent in the West were forecasts of the future, she was destined to
have her longings more than fulfilled.

Presently the stage rolled slower and slower, until it came to a halt.
Then the horses heaved, the harnesses clinked, the men whispered.
Otherwise there was an intense quiet. She looked out, expecting to
find it pitch-dark. It was black, yet a transparent blackness. To her
surprise she could see a long way. A shooting-star electrified her.
The men were listening. She listened, too, but beyond the slight sounds
about the stage she heard nothing. Presently the driver clucked to his
horses, and travel was resumed.

For a while the stage rolled on rapidly, evidently downhill, swaying
from side to side, and rattling as if about to fall to pieces. Then it
slowed on a level, and again it halted for a few moments, and once more
in motion it began a laborsome climb. Helen