realization of
beauty.

She whirled from it and glanced quickly at the two spaces on the
rugged walls.

"There," she said, pointing to the broad expanse between the northern
windows, "hang it there."

"Done," said Kenset, and went promptly for a hammer.

When the huge thick mat was securely stretched in place, Tharon
helping to hold it while he pounded in the broad-topped tacks, Kenset
stepped back and wondered how he had ever for a moment considered
hanging it in any other spot. The tempered light from the door came in
upon it, bringing out each enchanted charm, each tender vista.

"Wonderful!" he said to himself, "I never knew how lovely it was amid
conventional surroundings!"

"Huh?" asked Tharon.

The man laughed in spite of himself and turned his eyes to hers, to
lose his quick amusement in the earnest blue depths that seemed to
question him at every angle.

"I mean that it looks better here in my cabin than it ever did on city
walls."

"Why?"

"Well--I don't know. Contrast, perhaps."

Tharon stood a moment thinking.

"Perhaps," she answered slowly, "yes, perhaps. I guess that's why you
seem so diff'rent to me. Jim Last used to say that was why th' Valley
was so soft-like an' lovely, contrasted by th' Rockface."

"Do I seem different to you?" asked Kenset quickly. "How?"

"Yes. I don't know how. You seem soft, like a woman--some women--an'
I'm afraid----"

She stopped suddenly, abruptly halted in her naive speech, as if she
had come face to face with something she had not meant to meet.

"Afraid?" probed the man gravely, "go on. You are afraid--of what?"

"No," said Tharon, "I won't say it"

"Please do. I want to know."

"Then," answered the girl straightly, after the honest and downright
fashion of all her dealings, "I'm afraid you are--are too soft. You
don't pack a gun. I'm afraid you wouldn't use it if you did."

There was a certain finality about the short speech, as if she had put
the last word of condemnation to his estate.

Kenset looked down at his hands, spread them out a bit.

"You're right," he said shortly, though his voice was still gentle. "I
don't. And I wouldn't. Not until the last extremity."

"An' what would that be?" she asked.

"I don't just know, Miss Last," he answered smiling and raising his
eyes once more to hers, "it would have to be--the _last_ extremity, I
know.

"The hands of all my forbears have been clean, so far as I know. I
have a deep horror of th