rning that Bill Wagstaff, for all his gentleness and
patience with her, was a persistent mortal.

"Well, I do," he continued, unperturbed. "Lots of 'em. But mostly
around one thing--a woman--a dream woman--because I never saw one that
seemed to fit in until I ran across you."

"Mr. Wagstaff," Hazel pleaded, "won't you please stop talking like
that? It isn't--it isn't--"

"Isn't proper, I suppose," Bill supplied dryly. "Now, that's merely an
error, and a fundamental error on your part, little person. Our
emotion and instincts are perfectly proper when you get down to
fundamentals. You've got an artificial standard to judge by, that's
all. And I don't suppose you have the least idea how many lives are
spoiled one way and another by the operation of those same artificial
standards in this little old world. Now, I may seem to you a lawless,
unprincipled individual indeed, because I've acted contrary to your
idea of the accepted order of things. But here's my side of it: I'm in
search of happiness. We all are. I have a few ideals--and very few
illusions. I don't quite believe in this thing called love at first
sight. That presupposes a volatility of emotion that people of any
strength of character arc not likely to indulge in. But--for instance,
a man can have a very definite ideal of the kind of woman he would like
for a mate, the kind of woman he could be happy with and could make
happy. And whenever he finds a woman who corresponds to that ideal
he's apt to make a strenuous attempt to get her. That's pretty much
how I felt about you."

"You had no right to kidnap me," Hazel cried.

"You had no business getting lost and making it possible for me to
carry you off," Bill replied. "Isn't that logic?"

"I'll never forgive you," Hazel flashed. "It was treacherous and
unmanly. There are other ways of winning a woman."

"There wasn't any other way open to me." Bill grew suddenly moody.
"Not with you in Cariboo Meadows. I'm taboo there. You'd have got a
history of me that would have made you cut me dead; you may have had
the tale of my misdeeds for all I know. No, it was impossible for me
to get acquainted with you in the conventional way. I knew that, and
so I didn't make any effort. Why, I'd have been at your elbow when you
left the supper table at Jim Briggs' that night if I hadn't known how
it would be. I went there out of sheer curiosity to take a look at
you--maybe out of a spirit of defianc