ove on!"

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

As widely different as night is from day, summer from winter, heat from
cold, are some members of the human family; yet God made them all, and
has a purpose of love and mercy towards each! Common sense says this;
the general opinion of mankind holds this; highest of all, the Word
clearly states this: "God willeth not the death of a sinner, but rather
that he should turn from his wickedness and live;" and, "He maketh His
sun to shine upon the just and on the unjust." Nevertheless, it seemed
difficult to believe that the same God formed and spared and guarded and
fed the fierce, lawless man Stalker, and the loving, gentle delicate
Rose of Oregon.

About the same hour that the former was endeavouring to compass the
destruction of Paul Bevan, Betty was on her knees in her little tented
room, recalling the deeds, the omissions, and the shortcomings of the
past day, interceding alike for friends and foes--if we may venture to
assume that a rose without a thorn could have foes! Even the
robber-chief was remembered among the rest, and you may be very sure
that Tom Brixton was not forgotten.

Having slept the sleep of innocence and purity, Betty rose refreshed on
the following day, and, before the Indian village was astir, went out to
ramble along a favourite walk in a thicket on the mountain-side. It so
fell out that Tom had selected the same thicket for his morning ramble.
But poor Tom did not look like one who hoped to meet with his lady-love
that morning. He had, under good nursing, recovered some of his former
strength and vigour of body with wonderful rapidity, but his face was
still haggard and careworn in an unusual degree for one so young. When
the two met Tom did not pretend to be surprised. On the contrary, he
said:--

"I expected to meet you here, Betty, because I have perceived that you
are fond of the place, and, believe me, I would not have presumed to
intrude, were it not that I wish to ask one or two questions, the
answers to which may affect my future movements."

He paused, and Betty's heart fluttered, for she could not help
remembering former meetings when Tom had tried to win her affections,
and when she had felt it her duty to discourage him. She made no reply
to this rather serious beginning to the interview, but dropped her eyes
on the turf, for she saw that the youth was gazing at her with a very
mingled and peculiar expression.

"Tell me," he resumed, af