e music for the violin; and
I've got something for you to help me do, too, if you will?"

He smiled tenderly down on her. What a wonderful girl she was, to be
willing to come out to the old shack among a lot of rough men and one
uncultured old woman and make them happy, when she was fit for the
finest in the land!

"You're _wonderful_!" he said, taking her hand with a quick pressure for
good-by. "You make every one want to do his best."

He hurried out to his horse and rode away in the moonlight. Margaret
went up to her "mountain window" and watched him far out on the trail,
her heart swelling with an unnamed gladness over his last words.

"Oh, God, keep him, and help him to make good!" she prayed.

CHAPTER XXI

The visit to the camp was a time to be remembered long by all the
inhabitants of the bunk-house, and even by Margaret herself. Margaret
wondered Friday evening, as she sat up late, working away braiding a
lovely gray bonnet out of folds of malines, and fashioning it into form
for Mom Wallis, why she was looking forward to the visit with so much
more real pleasure than she had done to the one the week before at the
Temples'. And so subtle is the heart of a maid that she never fathomed
the real reason.

The Temples', of course, was interesting and delightful as being
something utterly new in her experience. It was comparatively luxurious,
and there were pleasant, cultured people there, more from her own social
class in life. But it was going to be such fun to surprise Mom Wallis
with that bonnet and see her old face light up when she saw herself in
the little folding three-leaved mirror she was taking along with her and
meant to leave for Mom Wallis's log boudoir. She was quite excited over
selecting some little thing for each one of the men--books, pictures, a
piece of music, a bright cushion, and a pile of picture magazines. It
made a big bundle when she had them together, and she was dubious if she
ought to try to carry them all; but Bud, whom she consulted on the
subject, said, loftily, it "wasn't a flea-bite for the Kid; he could
carry anything on a horse."

Bud was just a little jealous to have his beloved teacher away from home
so much, and rejoiced greatly when Gardley, Friday afternoon, suggested
that he come along, too. He made quick time to his home, and secured a
hasty permission and wardrobe, appearing like a footman on his father's
old horse when they were half a mile down the trail.