untains
Seem to watch and wait alway."

The song of a woman alone, and then another, "A Warrior Bold," and then
"Alice, Where Art Thou?" And finally "Juanita." They were songs his
audience would appreciate. And all those four songs of tragedy he sang
without banishing the beaming smile from his eyes. He might have been
relating the woes of marionettes.

He passed from the scene to the sound of clapping hands, and when he
returned almost immediately after that agreeable theatrical exit, he began
to dance. He danced with the bride-to-be, and then with the bridesmaids.
He found obscure girls who seemed to have been forgotten--who might be
said to have had no existence before he found them--and danced with them
with natural gallantry. He came finally to Sylvia, and she drifted away
with him, her hand resting on his shoulder like a kiss.

"I thought you would never come to me," she said in a lifeless voice.

"You knew I would," was the response.

Her lips said nothing more. But her heart was beating against him; it was
speaking to him with clarity, with eloquence.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

PART V

A WIND FROM THE NORTH

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CHAPTER XXI

Harboro and Sylvia were taking leave of Wayne and Valdez. Their horses had
been brought and they were in their saddles, their horses' heads already
in the direction of Eagle Pass. Valdez was adding final instructions
touching the road.

"If you're not quite sure of the way I'll get some one to ride in with
you," said Wayne; but Harboro would not listen to this.

"I'll not lose the way," he declared; though there remained in his mind a
slight dubiousness on this point. The moon would be down before the ride
was finished, and there were not a few roads leading away from the main
thoroughfare.

Then, much to Harboro's surprise, Runyon appeared, riding away from the
corral on his beautiful dun horse. He overheard the conference between
Harboro and the others, and he made himself one of the group with pleasant
familiarity.

"Ah, Harboro, must you be going, too?" he inquired genially; and then: "If
you don't mind, I'll ride with you. It's rather a lonely road at this
hour, and I've an idea I know the way better than you."

Harboro's eyes certainly brightened with relief. "It's good of you to
offer," he declared heartily. "By all