you to
know--what--what ailed me."

"Lass, it was a fine, brave letter--written by a girl facin' an upheaval
of conscience an' soul. But in your own trouble you forget the effect
that letter might have on Wils Moore."

"Ben!... I--I've lain awake at night--Oh, was he hurt?"

"Collie, I reckon if you don't see Wils he'll kill himself or kill
Buster Jack," replied Wade, gravely.

"I'll see--him!" she faltered. "But oh, Ben--you don't mean that Wilson
would be so base--so cowardly?"

"Collie, you're a child. You don't realize the depths to which a man can
sink. Wils has had a long, hard pull this winter. My nursin' an' your
letters have saved his life. He's well, now, but that long, dark spell
of mind left its shadow on him. He's morbid."

"What does he--want to see me--for?" asked Columbine, tremulously.
There were tears in her eyes. "It'll only cause more pain--make
matters worse."

"Reckon I don't agree with you. Wils just wants an' needs to _see_ you.
Why, he appreciated your position. I've heard him cry like a woman over
it an' our helplessness. What ails him is lovesickness, the awful
feelin' which comes to a man who believes he has lost his
sweetheart's love."

"Poor boy! So he imagines I don't love him any more? Good Heavens! How
stupid men are!... I'll see him, Ben. Take me to him."

For answer, Wade grasped the bridle of her horse and, turning him, took
a course leading away behind the hill that lay between them and the
ranch-house. The trail was narrow and brushy, making it necessary for
him to walk ahead of the horse. So the hunter did not speak to her or
look at her for some time. He plodded on with his eyes downcast.
Something tugged at Wade's mind, an old, familiar, beckoning thing,
vague and mysterious and black, a presage of catastrophe. But it was
only an opening wedge into his mind. It had not entered. Gravity and
unhappiness occupied him. His senses, nevertheless, were alert. He heard
the low roar of the flooded brook, the whir of rising grouse ahead, the
hoofs of deer on stones, the song of spring birds. He had an eye also
for the wan wild flowers in the shaded corners. Presently he led the
horse out of the willows into the open and up a low-swelling, long slope
of fragrant sage. Here he dropped back to Columbine's side and put his
hand upon the pommel of her saddle. It was not long until her own hand
softly fell upon his and clasped it. Wade thrilled under the warm touch.
How well he knew