you mustn't fret. Every night I want you to say to yourself: 'I'm
Bud's girl, and he won't forget me;' and whenever you get lonely or
downhearted, just say that. Now Libby Anne, tell me who you are."

"I'm Bud's girl, all right," she answered gravely.

The sun had gone down in a crimson haze, and a misty tenderness
seemed to brood over the world. The September evening was so full of
peace and beauty with its muffled tinkle of cowbells and the soft
song of the whippoorwill that came at intervals from the maple bush
on Oak Creek, it was hard to believe that there were troubled hearts
anywhere.

The hoarse whistle of a long freight train on the C. P. R. boomed
harshly through the quiet air. "I must go, Lib," said Bud.

Libby Anne stood looking after him as he went quickly down the road.
The evening twilight soon hid him from her sight, but she still
looked down the winding road until it dipped down in the valley of
Oak Creek.

Suddenly from the river-bank came the weird cry of a prairie wolf,
and Libby Anne, turning with a shudder, ran home in the gathering
dusk.

CHAPTER XXII

AUTUMN DAYS

There's a wonderful charm in the autumn days,
When Earth to her rest is returning;
When the hills are drowned in a purple haze,
When the wild grape sweetens, and all in a blaze
Of crimson the maples are turning.

_----Helena Coleman._

WHEN autumn came to the Souris valley and touched the trees with
crimson and gold, it found that some progress had been made on the
farm that was getting its second chance.

Down on the river flat the hay had been cut and gathered into two
stacks, which stood beside the stable, and the two Watson cows now
fattened on the rich growth of aftergrass.

The grain, which had been an abundant crop, had been threshed and
drawn at once to the elevator, for there was no place to store it;
but as the price was one dollar a bushel for the best, and seventy
cents for the poorest, John Watson had no cause for complaint. The
stable, which he had built of poles, was now roofed by a straw stack
and was intended for a winter shelter for the two cows.

In the early spring Pearl had planted a bed of Polly's poppies, and
all summer long they had flamed red and brilliant against the poplar
grove behind the house, which sheltered them from the winds. The
weeds around the buildings were all cut down and the scrub cleaned
out for a garden the next year. In the holidays the boys had fence