ied out: "I can't stand these everlasting ice peaks, Hollis; they crowd
me so."

Miss Armitage sat obliviously looking off once more across the valley. The
thunder-heads, denser now and driving in legions along the opposite
heights, stormed over the snow peak and assailed the far, shining dome.

"Oh," she exclaimed, "see Rainier now! That blackest cloud is lifting over
the summit. Rain is streaming from it like a veil of gauze; but the dome
still shines through like a transfigured face!"

Tisdale's glance rested a moment on the wonder. His face cleared. "If we
were on the other side of the Cascades," he said, "that weather-cap would
mean a storm before many hours; but here, in this country of little rain,
I presume it is only a threat."

The bays began to round a curve and presently Rainier, the lesser heights,
all the valley of Kittitas, closed from sight. They had reached the timber
belt; poplars threaded the parks of pine, and young growths of fir, like
the stiff groves of a toy village, gathered hold on the sharp mountain
slopes. Sometimes the voice of a creek, hurrying down the canyon to join
the Yakima, broke the stillness, or a desert wind found its way in and
went wailing up the water-course. And sometimes in a rocky place, the
hoof-beats of the horses, the noise of the wheels, struck an echo from
spur to spur. Then Tisdale commenced to whistle cautiously, in fragments
at first, with his glance on the playing ears of the colts, until
satisfied they rather liked it, he settled into a definite tune, but with
the flutelike intonations of one who loves and is accustomed to make his
own melody.

He knew that this woman beside him, since they had left the civilization
of the valley behind, half repented her adventure. He felt the barrier
strengthen to a wall, over which, uncertain, a little afraid, she watched
him. At last, having finished the tune, he turned and surprised the covert
look from under her curling black lashes.

"I hope," he said, and the amusement broke softly in his face, "all this
appraisal is showing a little to my credit."

The color flamed pinkly in her face. She looked away. "I was wondering if
you blamed me. I've been so unconservative--so--so--even daring. Is it not
true?"

"No, Miss Armitage, I understand how you had to decide, in a moment, to
take that eastbound train in Snoqualmie Pass, and that you believed it
would be possible to motor or stage across to Wenatchee from the Milwaukee