Hope Hathaway

She was thinking hard. She could not be rude to Livingston, she could not very well explain, yet she dared not allow him to accompany her back to Harris' ranch. What should she do? Na

as not sorrow piercing his heart with a greater pain. In her moment of tenderness she had become to him a woman divine. He not only loved her, and knew it, but felt the hopelessness of ever winning her. It was not exactly new, only revealed to him, for it had come upon him gradually since the evening that she had given him the water at the spring. He had cursed himself that night for thinking of an Indian girl, he, a man with a name to sustain-a name which counted little in this new country of the West. He tried to imagine her a

ar it quite plainly. These corrals should not be so far from the house. It must be nearly a mile. I suppos

new to me. Any place seemed good enough for a corral, to my ignorant mind. Are you interested in the

ry, only as a nuisance. I hate sheep. They ruin our range. One band can eat off miles and miles in a s

o. I have heard that a strong feeling of antagonism existed between sheep and cattle owners, but thought nothing

shoulders slightl

the place and see, if you can, what is meant by it all-what damage has been done. The wagon is still some distance away." Her shyness was

ke for the animals, I can hardly ask you to go with me, but I do not like to leave you here

ckly. "I'll go with you, for I am curious to

She feared that the boys had aimed too low, and was nervously anxious to see just what mischief had been done. Almost anything, she thought, would have been b

re, went to one side and looked at the panels carefully, discovering many bullet holes w

d up over there from fright, but so many are sleeping that it will be impossible to determine the loss until morning. The loss is small; probably a hundred piled up and hurt, not m

le. Livingston heard the laugh and looked around in wonderment. He could see nothing amusing. This Western girl was totally different from any girl that he had known, English or American. She must possess a sense of humor out of all proportion with anything of

I drive in the ones near the

a shudder at the blanket-covered form of the dead herder. A deep roar of thunder startled her into a half-suppressed scream. In the lantern's light she

llowed the first, fairly weakening her. She ran to her horse and, mounting, rode up near the corral. At the same instant the wagon came up, and Livingston, having placed the panel in position, turned toward it. He was close beside the girl before he s

ll accompany you. My horse

Someone is waiting for me down

the person whose whistle you hear. You do no

ulsively, placing her han

heartless, a creature of stone-indifferent. It isn't so. My heart has held a little place for aching all these years. Think of me as half-witted,-idiotic,-but not that. Listen to me. You have such a heart-such tenderness-you are good

you not

there, they know. I want to ride like the wind-alone-ahead of the storm, to get there soon. I am tired." He

with one of my

as I wish!" she cried impat

any, but one of the men must go and take a lantern.

m again. This time h

a man of

that is not the

u will not go wi

-and I think," he added briefly, "that there is no nec

ride like the wind, and will be halfway home before he can get on his horse." She turned like a

could no longer hear the dull notes on the