to roll.

"You've got to be all made over new," she replied, tolerantly. "Stay here
a year and you'll be able to stand anything."

Remounting, she again led the way with cheery cry. The rain came dashing
down in fitful, misty streams; but she merely pulled the rim of her
sombrero closer over her eyes, and rode steadily on, while he followed,
plunged in gloom as cold and gray as the storm. The splitting crashes of
thunder echoed from the high peaks like the voices of siege-guns, and the
lightning stabbed here and there as though blindly seeking some hidden
foe. Long veils of falling water twisted and trailed through the valleys
with swishing roar.

"These mountain showers don't last long," the girl called back, her face
shining like a rose. "We'll get the sun in a few minutes."

And so it turned out. In less than an hour they rode into the warm light
again, and in spite of himself Norcross returned her smile, though he
said: "I feel like a selfish fool. You are soaked."

"Hardly wet through," she reassured him. "My jacket and skirt turn water
pretty well. I'll be dry in a jiffy. It does a body good to be wet once
in a while."

The shame of his action remained; but a closer friendship was
established, and as he took off the coat and handed it back to her, he
again apologized. "I feel like a pig. I don't see how I came to do it.
The thunder and the chill scared me, that's the truth of it. You
hypnotized me into taking it. How wet you _are_!" he exclaimed,
remorsefully. "You'll surely take cold."

"I never take cold," she returned. "I'm used to all kinds of weather.
Don't you bother about me."

Topping a low divide the youth caught a glimpse of the range to the
southeast, which took his breath. "Isn't that superb!" he exclaimed.
"It's like the shining roof of the world!"

"Yes, that's the Continental Divide," she confirmed, casually; but the
lyrical note which he struck again reached her heart. The men she knew
had so few words for the beautiful in life. She wondered whether this
man's illness had given him this refinement or whether it was native to
his kind. "I'm glad he took my coat," was her thought.

She pushed on down the slope, riding hard, but it was nearly two o'clock
when they drew up at Meeker's house, which was a long, low, stone
structure built along the north side of the road. The place was
distinguished not merely by its masonry, but also by its picket fence,
which had once been whitewashed. Farm