reat silver spoon and
bellowing that they meant to starve him.

"I don't remember how I came here," I began, then flushed furiously at
my foolishness.

"Remember!" he shouted. "I don't remember anything! I don't want to
remember anything! I want my porridge! I want it now! Damnation!"

Cato, hastening past me with the steaming dish, was received with a
yelp. But at last Sir Lupus got his spoon into the mess and a portion of
the mess into his mouth, and fell to gobbling and growling, paying me no
further attention. So I closed the door of the gun-room on the great
patroon and walked to the foot of the stairway.

A figure in soft buckskins was descending--a blue-eyed, graceful youth
who hailed me with a gesture.

"Dorothy!" I said, fascinated.

Her fringed hunting-shirt fell to her knees, the short shoulder-cape
from throat to breast; gay fringe fluttered from shoulder to wrist, and
from thigh to ankle; and her little scarlet-quilled moccasins went
pat-patter-pat as she danced down the stairway and stood before me,
sweeping her cap from her golden head in exaggerated salute.

She seemed smaller in her boy's dress, fuller, too, and rounder of neck
and limb; and the witchery of her beauty left me silent--a tribute she
found delightful, for she blushed very prettily and bowed again in dumb
acknowledgment of the homage all too evident in my eyes.

Cato came with a dish of meat and a bottle of claret; and we sat down
on the stairs, punishing bottle and platter till neither drop nor
scrap remained.

"Don't leave these dishes for Sir Lupus to fall over!" she cried to
Cato, then sprang to her feet and was out of the door before I could
move, whistling for our horses.

As I came out the horses arrived, and I hastened forward to put her into
her saddle, but she was up and astride ere I reached the ground, coolly
gathering bridle and feeling with her soft leather toes for
the stirrups.

Astonished, for I had never seen a girl so mounted, I climbed to my
saddle and wheeled my mare, following her out across the lawn, through
the stockade and into the road, where I pushed my horse forward and
ranged up beside her at a gallop, just as she reached the bridge.

"See!" she cried, with a sweep of her arm, "there are the children down
there fishing under the mill." And she waved her small cap of silver
fox, calling in a clear, sweet voice the Indian cry of triumph, "Koue!"

VIII

RIDING THE BOUNDS

For the first half-