t be in a hurry to sell."

Naturally, thought Angus, that would be French's advice. Perhaps he had
had the handling of the property, and Braden had been acting for him
when trying to sell to Chetwood. If that sale had gone through, half the
property would have been sold for what had been paid for the whole, and
the remainder, worthless or not, would have been velvet. But as it was
French was in a tight box, and the only thing he could do was to advise
the girl to let the place alone, and hope that nothing would occur to
arouse her suspicions. Angus half wished for her sake that he had not
blocked the sale to Chetwood.

"You see," she said, "I have to do something for a living. I haven't
enough to keep me in idleness, and anyway I don't want to be idle. But I
didn't mean to bother you with my worries. I don't know why it is, but
I find myself talking to you just as frankly as when I was the little,
lost girl and you were the big boy. Perhaps I am a little lost, still.
You--you seem comforting, somehow." She considered for a moment.
"Perhaps it's the bigness of you. But I don't talk to Gavin as I do to
you, and I know him much better. Why is it?"

"I don't know, but I'm glad of it," Angus told her. "I want to help you
if I can."

"Now, I believe that's why," she said. "You want to help folks who need
it. That's the secret of it."

"Nothing of the sort," Angus told her. Suddenly he realized that the sun
was low above the western ranges and that the early fall evening was
coming. "We'll have to be moving if we're to get home by dark," he said.
"To-morrow I'll skin out the bear."

"Oh--my pony!" she exclaimed. "I never thought of him."

"No use looking for him. Likely he headed for home. You'll ride my
horse."

"And let you walk? Indeed, no!"

"Of course you will."

"But I won't. You're hurt--"

"Not a bit," Angus lied cheerfully.

"Yes, you are. There, you see, you're almost too stiff to walk. I won't
have it, Angus, really I won't."

Angus did not argue the point further. He was accustomed to having his
own way with girls, or at least with Jean. He was sore and stiff, and
when he first moved a sharp pain in his side made him catch his breath,
but he knew that the best cure for stiffness is movement. They crossed
the creek and he saddled Chief, and without a word began to take up the
stirrups.

"Angus," said Faith Winton, "I meant what I told you. I rode your pony
years ago, when I was a little, lost girl