er here in all mooted
matters. It was, therefore, surely her right to have intelligence as
to the plans, the emotions, the mental process of all these people,
including all newcomers. Were they not indeed in her charge?

Her right? Indeed, was it not her duty to know what there was in this
letter from the woman whom she herself had brought out here not so long
ago? It caused her vast perturbation, for she had a conscience which
dated back to ages of Scottish blood, but she was not one to deviate
from her duty once she had established it! This letter--to Major Allen
Barnes, in yonder city--what was in it?

It was a letter going to that outer world, from the very person whom
she, Sarah Davidson, had brought into this sagebrush world and had set
down among these neighbors. Just now she had confessed herself to be
happy here. Why? Could it be a violation of confidence--an
eavesdropping--opening this letter? Not in the least! It was only
oppor-r-r-tunity! As to that, who did not know that for years every
letter to a soldier was opened and censored? Obviously it was her duty
as social censor of Two Forks also to open and read this letter.

Therefore, looking behind her cautiously to see she was not observed,
she stepped behind the cover of the willows and ran the point of her
pencil along the edge of the sealed envelope--it had been sealed
thoroughly. Still, she tore it but very little in the process.

There came out into her hand a single sheet of paper. It bore no
address and no signature. It showed a handwriting evidently that of a
lady of culture, of education. There was nothing to show that it was
an answer--an answer long deferred but not now to be changed, a woman's
answer to the great question.

Mrs. Davidson was standing in a sort of consternation, the two parts of
the letter in her two hands, when she nearly sprang into the wire fence
at the sudden voice she heard, the voice of a man speaking close at
hand.

"Good Lord, Mr. Gardner!" said she, "you gave me a turn. I wasn't
thinking of you."

"What was you thinking of, Mis' Davidson?" asked Wid, smiling. "You
was all in a trance. Something on your mind, huh? I bet I know.
You're sending out a ad on your own account--'object, matrimony!'"

"Sir-r-r!" said Sarah Davidson, flushing red for the first time Wid
Gardner had ever seen it occur, "such conver-r-r-sation is not welcome
on your part, not in the least! I prefer-r-r that you shall not