ain woman, she did seriously believe that
men were different from women and that was the end of the matter!

"You run along, small girl of mine--the skies are clear, the sun
warm--but I want you to meet me at three o'clock at the spot where the
trail joins the road. I will be there and I will wait for you."

"But why?--why?" The blue-gray eyes were troubled.

"Sweetheart, we're going to find that minister of yours if we have to
travel from one end of the hills to the other!"

"But we-all are married!" This with a little gasp. "Back on the hill,
when you told God and said He understood; then we-all were married."

"And so we were, my sweet, no minister could make you more mine than
you already are, but the others--your people. Should they try to
separate us they might cause trouble and the minister can make it
impossible for any one to take you away from my love and care."

And at that moment Truedale actually believed what he said. In his heart
he had always been a rebel--defiant and impotent. He had, in this
instance, proved his theories; but he did not intend to leave loose ends
that might endanger the safety of others--of this young girl, most of
all. He was only going to carry out his original plans for her
safety--not his own. After the days just past--days of anxiety, relief,
and the proving of his love and hers--no doubt remained in Truedale's
heart; he was of the hills, now and forever!

"No one can--_now_!" This came passionately from Nella-Rose as she
watched him.

"They might make trouble until they found that out. They're too free
with their guns. There's a lot to explain, little doney-gal." Conning
smiled down her doubts.

"Until three o'clock!" Nella-Rose pouted, "that's a right long time. But
I'll--just run along. Always and always I'm going to do what you say!"
Already his power over her was absolute. She put her arms out with a
happy, wilful gesture and Truedale held her closer.

"Only until three, sweetheart."

Nella-Rose drew herself away and turned to pick up her little shawl and
hat from the couch by the fire; she was just reaching for her basket,
when a shadow fell across the floor. Truedale and the girl turned and
confronted--Jim White! What he had seen and heard--who could tell from
his expressionless face and steady voice? The door had been on the latch
and he had come in!

"Mail, and truck, and rabbits!" he explained, tossing his load upon the
table. Then he turned toward Truedale