, lady. You c'd make Rusty afore dark.
It's a whole lot easier on hoofs than it is on wheels. You can't miss the
road on account of it bein' the only road there is. And Lander's is the
only one hotel in Rusty. You'd best stop the night there."

He evidently wanted to ask her her destination, but his courtesy
forbade.

Sheila volunteered, "I am going to Miss Blake's ranch up Hidden Creek."

A sort of flash of surprise passed across the reserved, brown, young
face. "Yes, ma'am," he said with no expression. "Well, you better leave
the rest of your trip until to-morrow."

He slipped from his horse with an effortless ripple, untied a tawny
little pony with a thick neck, a round body, and a mild, intelligent
face, and led him to Sheila who mounted from her sack. Thatcher carefully
adjusted the stirrups, a primitive process that involved the wearisome
lacing and unlacing of leather thongs. Sheila bade him a bright and
adventurous "Good-bye." thanked the unknown owner of the horse, and
started. The pony showed some unwillingness to leave his companions,
fretted and tossed his head, and made a few attempts at a right-about
face, but Sheila dug in her small spurred heels and spoke beguilingly. At
last he settled down to sober climbing. Sheila looked back and waved her
hand. The two tall, lean men were gazing after her. They took off their
hats and waved. She felt a warmth that was almost loving for their
gracefulness and gravity and kindness. Here was another breed of man than
that produced by Millings. A few minutes later she came to the top of The
Pass and looked down into Hidden Creek.

CHAPTER II

ADVENTURE

Sheila stood and drew breath. The shadow of the high peak, in the lap of
which she stood, poured itself eastward across the warm, lush, narrow
land. This was different from the hard, dull gold and alkali dust of the
Millings country: here were silvery-green miles of range, and
purple-green miles of pine forest, and lovely lighter fringes and groves
of cottonwood and aspen trees. Here and there were little dots of
ranches, visible more by their vivid oat and alfalfa fields than by their
small log cabins. Down the valley the river flickered, lifted by its
brightness above the hollow that held it, till it seemed just hung there
like a string of jewels. Beyond it the land rose slowly in noble sweeps
to the opposite ranges, two chains that sloped across each other in a
glorious confusion of heads, round and sof