red Lassiter's gift for trailing. And the
more Venters dwelt on this possibility the more perturbed he grew.

Lassiter's visit, moreover, had a disquieting effect upon Bess, and
Venters fancied that she entertained the same thought as to future
seclusion. The breaking of their solitude, though by a well-meaning
friend, had not only dispelled all its dream and much of its charm, but
had instilled a canker of fear. Both had seen the footprint in the sand.

Venters did no more work that day. Sunset and twilight gave way to
night, and the canyon bird whistled its melancholy notes, and the wind
sang softly in the cliffs, and the camp-fire blazed and burned down to
red embers. To Venters a subtle difference was apparent in all of these,
or else the shadowy change had been in him. He hoped that on the morrow
this slight depression would have passed away.

In that measure, however, he was doomed to disappointment. Furthermore,
Bess reverted to a wistful sadness that he had not observed in her since
her recovery. His attempt to cheer her out of it resulted in dismal
failure, and consequently in a darkening of his own mood. Hard work
relieved him; still, when the day had passed, his unrest returned.
Then he set to deliberate thinking, and there came to him the startling
conviction that he must leave Surprise Valley and take Bess with him.
As a rider he had taken many chances, and as an adventurer in Deception
Pass he had unhesitatingly risked his life, but now he would run no
preventable hazard of Bess's safety and happiness, and he was too keen
not to see that hazard. It gave him a pang to think of leaving the
beautiful valley just when he had the means to establish a permanent
and delightful home there. One flashing thought tore in hot temptation
through his mind--why not climb up into the gorge, roll Balancing Rock
down the trail, and close forever the outlet to Deception Pass? "That
was the beast in me--showing his teeth!" muttered Venters, scornfully.
"I'll just kill him good and quick! I'll be fair to this girl, if it's
the last thing I do on earth!"

Another day went by, in which he worked less and pondered more and
all the time covertly watched Bess. Her wistfulness had deepened into
downright unhappiness, and that made his task to tell her all the
harder. He kept the secret another day, hoping by some chance she might
grow less moody, and to his exceeding anxiety she fell into far deeper
gloom. Out of his own secret a