esent by name, because it was a good-naturedly
accepted neighborhood fact that Miss Gregget listened. Then she told him
the Colonel had been there, that Miss Liz had been there, that Nancy had
been there; that they had stayed awhile, that they had left; she asked
about Dale without giving him a chance to answer; she told him something
bright Bip had said, something sagacious Mac had done--and all the while
the carriage was coming nearer! He had never before known her to talk so
volubly, so incessantly; but, instead of translating its reason, as a
wise man might have done, he looked furtively at the circle and
repeatedly tried to interrupt her. At last, in desperation, he said:

"They're coming up the porch, and I've only thirty seconds to ask you
something!"

She was very quiet then.

"Will you go to the chapel with me this afternoon? Four o'clock?"

"Y--yes! I think it will be fun!"

"Fun! That's worse than 'audience' and 'pulpit'! Shall we ride or
drive?"

"Let's ride."

"And Jane!"

Pause--"Yes?"

"It's my happiest birthday, too!"

She laughed. "How old are you, Brent?"

"My eyes have been open for a month;--how old does that make?"

"A very small infant!"

Miss Gregget snickered.

"Oh," Jane gasped.

"Damn," Brent growled, as both instruments clicked simultaneously.

CHAPTER XXXVII

TUSK

Early that same morning as Jess approached the place where Dale was
"laying out" near Tusk's cabin, he stopped a moment, listening; then
gave the clear call of a quail. After waiting several minutes he
whistled again, and as still no answer came he proceeded with extreme
caution.

The sun was not yet up, but in the sky were bars of red that reached
high above the mountains, and by this light he saw the watcher, face
down upon the rocks, asleep. Nature, his god, had commanded, and he
obeyed. Jess smiled, then noiselessly sat down to wait.

Noon came. The sheriff ate part of his lunch, lit his pipe, and settled
back for a longer wait. He felt an infinite relief to see this strange
man sleeping, for in his gruff make-up had grown a concern for the
mountaineer approaching affection. Now he swore softly to himself that,
even though Potter should come, he would let him pass rather than wake
Dale.

But also during the morning his interest had been held by another thing.
Idly facing the east, his gaze wandering over the scarred knobs or their
wooded crests, he had gradually become aware of an occasiona