riously. "But, stranger, it
might not be healthy for y'u to, say that anywhere. My dad, for one,
was not run out of Texas. Shore I never can see why he came heah. He's
accumulated stock, but he's not rich nor so well off as he was back
home."

"Are you goin' to stay here always?" queried Jean, suddenly.

"If I do so it 'll be in my grave," she answered, darkly. "But what's
the use of thinkin'? People stay places until they drift away. Y'u
can never tell.... Well, stranger, this talk is keepin' y'u."

She seemed moody now, and a note of detachment crept into her voice.
Jean rose at once and went for his horse. If this girl did not desire
to talk further he certainly had no wish to annoy her. His mule had
strayed off among the bleating sheep. Jean drove it back and then led
his horse up to where the girl stood. She appeared taller and, though
not of robust build, she was vigorous and lithe, with something about
her that fitted the place. Jean was loath to bid her good-by.

"Which way is the Rim?" he asked, turning to his saddle girths.

"South," she replied, pointing. "It's only a mile or so. I'll walk
down with y'u.... Suppose y'u're on the way to Grass Valley?"

"Yes; I've relatives there," he returned. He dreaded her next
question, which he suspected would concern his name. But she did not
ask. Taking up her rifle she turned away. Jean strode ahead to her
side. "Reckon if you walk I won't ride."

So he found himself beside a girl with the free step of a Mountaineer.
Her bare, brown head came up nearly to his shoulder. It was a small,
pretty head, graceful, well held, and the thick hair on it was a shiny,
soft brown. She wore it in a braid, rather untidily and tangled, he
thought, and it was tied with a string of buckskin. Altogether her
apparel proclaimed poverty.

Jean let the conversation languish for a little. He wanted to think
what to say presently, and then he felt a rather vague pleasure in
stalking beside her. Her profile was straight cut and exquisite in
line. From this side view the soft curve of lips could not be seen.

She made several attempts to start conversation, all of which Jean
ignored, manifestly to her growing constraint. Presently Jean, having
decided what he wanted to say, suddenly began: "I like this adventure.
Do you?"

"Adventure! Meetin' me in the woods?" And she laughed the laugh of
youth. "Shore you must be hard up for adventure, stranger."

"Do you l