tter go
down to camp now," she urged gently. "There isn't anything to be done up
here, for every sheep will die that got enough poison."

"I can't bear to think of leaving you alone up here," he protested
vehemently. "Why not let me stay and you go down to the wagons?"

She shook her head.

"There's not the slightest danger. He's done his work for the present,
and it may be a long time before I'm again molested."

"Whom do you mean?" he asked quickly.

"A 'breed' named Mullendore that hates me."

"Do you mean to say," incredulously, "that since you know who did it,
he'll ever have another opportunity?"

"I can't prove it; and, besides," bitterly, "you don't know Prouty."

With a swift transition of mood she crept into his arms voluntarily,
crying chokingly:

"Hold me close, Hughie! I feel so safe with your arms about me, as
though nothing or nobody could hurt me ever!"

In the morning Kate drove down to the camp at daylight the few sheep
that had not eaten enough of the saltpeter to kill them, or had missed
it altogether--only a small percentage of the valuable herd that had
started up the mountain.

Brusque, businesslike, she was as different from the girl who had clung
to Hugh for love and sympathy as could well be imagined.

They had breakfast together in the cook tent, which in the summer camp
was used as a dining tent also. It was while she was standing by the
stove that she turned suddenly and said impulsively:

"Do you know, Hughie, I love to cook, this morning, and ordinarily I
hate it! It's because it's for you--isn't it curious?" Her eyes were
shining with a look of love that was warm and generous; then the tears
filled them and she turned her back quickly.

"If I hadn't the same feeling about you, I might think so," he
responded. "I'm simply aching to do something for you--to help you in
some way--that's what I came for."

"Did you--really?" She looked at him gratefully.

"That--and because I couldn't stay away any longer. All the way up the
trail I had a feeling that you had hold of my heartstrings pulling me to
you, and as if they would break if I didn't get to you faster. I can't
describe it exactly, but it was as real as an actual physical
sensation."

She looked her understanding, though she made no response.

When breakfast was over and they had washed the dishes together in a
silence which each felt momentous, Kate said finally:

"You'd better tack a shoe on your horse before yo