sisted
the girl.

"Now just you listen to me a minute. I don't want to sell that horse,
an' there ain't no mortal use of you buyin' him. He's always
here--right in the corral when he ain't in the stable, an' either
place, all you got to do is throw yer kak on him an' fog it."

The girl stared at him in surprise: "You mean----"

"I mean that you're plumb welcome to use Lightnin' whenever you need
him. An' if they's anything else I can do to help you beat out any
ornery cuss that'd try an' hornswaggle you out of yer claim, you can
count on me doin' it! An' whether you know it 'er not, I ain't the
only one you can count on in a pinch neither." The man waved her
thanks aside with a sweep of a big hand, and rose from the table. "Miz
T. an' me'd like fer you to stop in whenever you feel like----"

"Yes, indeed, we would," seconded the little woman. "Couldn't you come
over an' bring yer sewin' some day?"

Patty laughed: "I'm afraid I haven't much sewing to bring, but I'll
come and spend the day with you some time. I'd love to."

The girl rode homeward with a lighter heart than she had known in some
time. "Now let him follow me all he wants to," she muttered. "But I
wonder why Mr. Thompson said I wouldn't have to race the buckskin. And
who did he mean I could count on in a pinch--Watts, I guess, or maybe
he meant Mr. Bethune."

As she saddled her horse next morning, Bethune presented himself at
the cabin. "Where away?" he smiled as he rode close, and swung
lightly to the ground.

"Into the hills," she answered, "in search of my father's lost mine."

The man's expression became suddenly grave: "Do you know, Miss
Sinclair, I hate to think of your riding these hills alone."

Patty glanced at him in surprise: "Why?"

"There are several reasons. For instance, one never knows what will
happen--a misstep on a dangerous trail--a broken cinch--any one of a
hundred things may happen in the wilds that mean death or serious
injury, even to the initiated. And the danger is tenfold in the case
of a tender-foot."

The girl laughed: "Thank you. But, if anything is going to happen,
it's going to happen. At least, I am in no danger from being run down
by a street car or an automobile. And I can't be blown up by a gas
explosion, or fall into a coal hole."

"But there are other dangers," persisted the man. "A woman, alone in
the hills--especially you."

"Why 'especially me'? Plenty of women have lived alone before in
places more