es," she said with an angry little catch of her breath, and she turned
submissively to let him lift her to her seat. Then she looked down into
his face.

"Jack," she said, and he started again at the frank address, "I ain't
NEVER GOIN' TO DO THAT NO MORE."

"Yes, you are, little girl," he said soberly but cheerily. "You're goin'
to do it whenever I'm wrong or whenever you think I'm wrong." She shook
her head seriously.

"No, Jack."

In a few minutes they were at the foot of the mountain and on a level
road.

"Hold tight!" Hale shouted, "I'm going to let him out now." At the
touch of his spur, the big black horse sprang into a gallop, faster and
faster, until he was pounding the hard road in a swift run like thunder.
At the creek Hale pulled in and looked around. June's bonnet was down,
her hair was tossed, her eyes were sparkling fearlessly, and her face
was flushed with joy.

"Like it, June?"

"I never did know nothing like it."

"You weren't scared?"

"Skeered o' what?" she asked, and Hale wondered if there was anything of
which she would be afraid.

They were entering the Gap now and June's eyes got big with wonder over
the mighty up-shooting peaks and the rushing torrent.

"See that big rock yonder, June?" June craned her neck to follow with
her eyes his outstretched finger.

"Uh, huh."

"Well, that's called Bee Rock, because it's covered with flowers--purple
rhododendrons and laurel--and bears used to go there for wild honey.
They say that once on a time folks around here put whiskey in the honey
and the bears got so drunk that people came and knocked 'em in the head
with clubs."

"Well, what do you think o' that!" said June wonderingly.

Before them a big mountain loomed, and a few minutes later, at the mouth
of the Gap, Hale stopped and turned his horse sidewise.

"There we are, June," he said.

June saw the lovely little valley rimmed with big mountains. She could
follow the course of the two rivers that encircled it by the trees that
fringed their banks, and she saw smoke rising here and there and that
was all. She was a little disappointed.

"It's mighty purty," she said, "I never seed"--she paused, but went on
without correcting herself--"so much level land in all my life."

The morning mail had just come in as they rode by the post-office and
several men hailed her escort, and all stared with some wonder at her.
Hale smiled to himself, drew up for none and put on a face of utter
un