en yore sight till ye finds out whar he goes an'
what he's doin'," came the crisp order. "He's up ter suthin' thet he
hain't givin' out ter each an' every, an' I'd love ter know what hit
is."

* * * * *

Along the ridges trailed that misty, smoky glamour with which Autumn
dreams of the gorgeous pictures she means to paint, with the woods for a
canvas and the frost for a brush.

Bas Rowlett had shaved the bristle from his jowl and chin and thrown his
overalls behind his cabin door. He had dressed him in high-laced boots
and donned a suit of store clothes, for in his mind were thoughts
livened and made keen with the heady intoxication of an atmosphere like
wine.

He knocked on the door of the house which he knew to be manless, and
waited until it was opened by Elviry Prooner.

His swarthy face with its high cheekbones bequeathed from the shameful
mixing of his blood in Indian veins wore a challenging smile of
daredeviltry, and the buxom young woman stood regarding him out of her
provocative eyes. Perhaps she owned to a revival of hope in her own
breast, which had known the rancour of unacknowledged jealousy because
this man had passed her by to worship at Dorothy Harper's shrine.
Perhaps Bas Rowlett who "had things hung up" had at last come to his
senses and meant, belatedly, to lay his heart at her feet. If he did,
she would lead him a merry dance of doing penance--but she would nowise
permit him to escape.

But Bas saw in Elviry only an unwelcome presence interfering with
another tete-a-tete, and the hostile hardening of his eyes angered her
so that the girl tossed her head, and wheeling haughtily she swept into
the house. A minute later he saw her still flushed and wrathful stalking
indignantly along the road toward Jake Crabbott's store at Lake Erie.

So Bas set his basket down and removed his hat and let his powerful
shoulders relax themselves restfully against the door frame. He was
waiting for Dorothy, and he was glad that the obnoxious Elviry had gone.

After a little Dorothy appeared. Her lips were innocent of the flippant
sneer that the other girl's had held and her beauty was not so
full-blown or material.

Bas Rowlett did not rise from his seat and the young woman did not
expect it. Casually he inquired: "Is Parish hyar?"

The last question came so innocently that it accomplished its purpose.

Bas seemed to hope for an affirmative reply, and his manner robbed his
pr