elf much less to Uncle
Sid.

"Oh," she replied, "because I want to. Won't that do?"

"You'd better come along with us," Uncle Sid protested. "You might meet
some more dried beef."

"I'm not afraid; besides I'm mounted now." Then they parted.

The trail which Helen had chosen, followed the canal. For a distance it
was squeezed tight between the walls of the steep-sloped, cedar-tufted
barranca. The bed was dry now; but when the water should be turned on,
this trail would be impassable. A little further, and the gorge opened
into a deep arroyo which the canal bridged, then turned and followed the
opposite bank.

Helen had followed this trail for two reasons. In the first place, she
wanted to be alone. Then, this was the trail over which she had ridden
with Ralph when he had first shown her his work. The head of the arroyo
was clad with a thicket of cedars, so dense as to be almost
impenetrable. As the last foot-fall sounded on the bridge, Helen's pony
halted abruptly, and with swelling nostrils and forward pointing ears,
whinnied a short, sharp challenge. There was an answering whinny, and
Helen's eyes followed the direction of the sound. Almost hidden by the
dull leaves of the cedars, was a draggled looking pony, saddled, with
the reins trailing on the ground. At first, Helen hardly noticed the
figure squatting limply beside the pony. His dishevelled clothing was
stuck full of gray needles, like those scattered on the ground, whence
the figure had evidently just risen to a sitting posture. The man raised
his eyes and Helen's heart stood still. In the gray, drawn face, the
dull, lusterless eyes, she recognized Elijah Berl. As she looked
wonderingly at him, in spite of the knowledge of his misdeeds, a great
wave of womanly pity swept over her heart. A single glance at the
pitiful figure, with the knowledge that had come to her from her
associations with him, told her the struggle he had lived through, a
struggle that had unbalanced his reason and left him lower than the
beasts of the field.

"Oh, Elijah! Why weren't you at the dam?" Her voice was tremulous, in
spite of her efforts to control it.

The answer to her words was a vacant, uncomprehending stare.

"Every one missed you," she continued. "Every one was asking for you."
Again she paused, eagerly searching her soul for words that would bring
the light of reason to the listless eyes.

There was no response, save a dropping of the dull eyes, an aimless
picki