the golden prize, back
to his horse; and, in order to portray Hod's antics more vividly to the
several acquaintances he met on his way to town, he not infrequently
dismounted. But, entering the Court House square at sunset, his mirth
sank miserably into his boots; for there upon the steps sat a young man
in smart puttees and riding breeches just finishing his dozenth
cigarette.

Thus it came about that a little bee, athirst and momentarily ceasing
its frenzied toil to drink beside the way, led a sheriff from his duty,
and affected a prisoner's release from voluntary durance at the precise
moment for him to meet, three miles out the pike, a happy girl--herself
hurrying homeward--in whose heart someone's name was ringing with the
beat of her bounding pulses, and in whose cheeks a color flamed as she
recognized him coming.

They reined in gently and stopped. The horses touched noses. For the
merest instant his eyes hungrily devoured her, then for an instant
closed, and after this he smiled politely, asking:

"May I say you're stunning?"

"Flatterer, comforter," she laughed. "But I'm dreadfully in need of it.
I've been--been crying!"

"Yes," he murmured, "I remember; you must have been. Shall I go back
with you as far as Bob's gate?"

"No; it is almost in sight, and you're as late as I. Why do you say you
remember?--that I must have been?"

"Because you just now told me you had been," he smiled again.

"Brent," she leaned over and looked very seriously into his face, "don't
temporize. I'm not in the humor for it! I heard about--something today,
and I want to tell you that you're--that you're splendid!"

"What about?" There was no feigned surprise in his question.

"Oh," she clapped her hands as a delighted child might have done, "he
doesn't know that Tusk is alive!" But added gravely: "Suppose he'd been
dead, Brent!"

He turned away; afraid, in this surprise and strange giddiness which was
enveloping him, to trust himself to speak. There ensued a longer pause,
broken by her wistful voice asking: "Why did you, Brent?"

"Oh, I was just having a little fun with Dale," he answered casually.
"Hurry, it's late! I'll race you to Bob's gate--and leave you!"

Turning his horse to put it in motion, he did not know that she sat
drooping in the saddle, and staring--pale and staring--with a horrified
fear and disappointment in her eyes.

"I'll not race," she faltered. "It is so near, so don't come. Perhaps I
might hav