he could boss you, and ever after he would have been a dangerous
horse for you to drive."

In the struggle, the horse had got one leg over the trace. Jim got out,
spoke to the big, strong brute, and did the firm-handed, compelling
things that a horseman knows. The tall creature stood a little trembly,
but submissive now, as the man unhooked the trace, adjusted all the
leathers, and then, with a word or two, adjusted the horse's mood.

"Shall I leave you now?" he asked.

"No," she said, "my arms are aching. I wish you would drive me home."

As he mounted the seat again and headed for the village, Jim had his
first chance to look at the girl beside him. If fear had paled her face
at all it was wholly overcome, for the richest glow of health was in her
cheeks and on her brow. She was beautiful he knew, with her brown hair
flying and brilliant colour, but these things did not entirely account
for a charm of which he was delightfully conscious. Her hands were a
little shaky from the struggle with the horse, but otherwise she was
fully recovered and self-possessed and talked in an animated if somewhat
nervous way about the adventure. In a land where rasping voices were the
rule, it was instantly to be noted that her voice was soft and low.

"Stockings is not a bad horse," she said, "except in one way; the lines
get under his tail. That always makes him back up and kick; then he got
his leg over the trace, was frightened, and ran away. He's the only one
of our horses that we have any trouble with. I was bound I'd drive him,
in spite of Pa; but I'm thinking now that Pa was right." Then, abruptly:
"I'm Miss Boyd; aren't you the new preacher?"

"Yes."

"I saw you at the station when you came yesterday."

"Sure, I didn't suppose a human being took notice of it," he laughed.

"Here's where I live. Will you come in?"

"No, thank you," he said; "I'm late now for breakfast at Dr. Jebb's." So
he tied the horse to the post, helped her from the rig, and with a
flourish of his stick and cap left her.

"The Rev. James Hartigan," she mused; "so that is Dr. Jebb's assistant."
Then in Stockings's ear: "I think I like him--don't you, old runaway?"

CHAPTER XII

Belle Boyd

Belle had been in the express office signing some receipts for goods
consigned to her father when Jim stepped from the train. He appeared
framed in the open doorway; six feet four, broad and straight, supple
and easy, with the head of a Greek god in