with Kit and me. If I can make this, it will be
different in the future. I'm not pulling any repentance stuff, you
savvy. What's done is done, and it can't be helped. Well, it's time I
was moving."

"How are you fixed for matches and smoking?"

"None too well--if you can spare either."

Angus handed over what he had in his pockets. "I wish you luck," he
said. "I hope you make it--clean."

"I'll make it," Gavin replied calmly, "if it's my luck, and if it isn't
I won't. It won't make any difference to anybody but Kit. If it wasn't
for her I wouldn't care--either way."

"Don't worry about her. We will see that she wants for nothing. Her home
will be with us if she will make it there, till you are ready for her."

"That's white of you," Gavin said with something very like emotion in
his voice; "but she'd better do as we had arranged. Tell her I'll make
it sure. And tell Faith--if you don't mind--that I said her husband was
a good man--oh, a damned good man!--every way." He was silent for a
moment. "Shake?" he said and held out his hand.

Their grips met hard.

"Well, so long," said Gavin.

"So long," said Angus.

The big man nodded and turned north. Angus turned south. In a hundred
paces he looked back. Gavin, already indistinct in the deceptive
moonlight was standing at the top of a slight rise doing likewise. He
waved his hand, turned, and the rise hid him from view. Though Angus
watched for some moments he did not reappear. He had crossed the divide.

Then Angus, too, turned again, and realizing for the first time that the
night cold of the height had chilled him to the bone struck a brisk pace
down the southern slope; while behind him a rising wind broomed the dry
snow of the desolate summit, effacing all trace of the trespassing feet
of men.

CHAPTER XLVII

PEACE

Angus was riding up to the French ranch. He had just parted from his
companions. Their homeward progress had been slow because of the wounded
men. Turkey and Rennie had gone on toward the home ranch, and Bush and
the other toward town. But he had turned off the trail to see Kathleen.
He hated his errand, but it was better that he should tell her than
leave it to a stranger. He would be glad to get it over and go home--to
Faith.

As he approached the house he saw her. Apparently she had seen him
coming, for she came down to greet him. He dismounted stiffly. He felt
her eyes searching his face.

"Well?" she queried. He shook his he