e whispered to Colina that this was a young man after
her own heart. Aloud she remarked languidly: "How about me? Perhaps I
am not so anxious."

He looked at her doubtfully, not quite knowing how to take this.
"Really he is too simple!" thought Colina.

"Of course I knew I would have to take my chance," he said. "I didn't
expect you to be waiting on the bank with a brass band and a wreath of
flowers!"

He smiled so boyishly that Colina, in spite of herself, was obliged to
smile back. Suddenly the absurd image caused them to burst out
laughing simultaneously--and Colina felt herself lost.

Laughter was as dangerous as a train of gunpowder. Even while he
laughed Colina saw that look spring out of his eyes--the mysterious
look that made her feel faint and helpless.

He leaned toward her and a still more candid avowal trembled on his
lips. Colina saw it coming. Her look of panic-terror restrained him.
He closed his mouth firmly and turned away his head.

Presently he offered her a breast of prairie chicken with a
matter-of-fact air. She shook her head, and a silence fell between
them--a terrible silence.

"Oh, why don't I go!" thought Colina despairingly.

It was Ambrose who eased the tension by saying comfortably: "It's a
great experience to travel alone. Your senses seem to be more
alert--you take in more."

He went on to tell her about his trip, and Colina lulled to security
almost before she knew it was recounting her own journey in the
preceding autumn. It was astonishing when they stuck to ordinary
matters--how like old friends they felt. Things did not need to be
explained.

It provided Colina with a good opportunity to retire. She rose.

Ambrose's face fell absurdly. "Must you go?" he said.

"I suppose I will meet you officially--later," she said.

He raised a pair of perplexed eyes to her face. "I never thought about
an introduction," he said quite humbly. "You see we never had any
ladies up here."

In the light of his uncertainty Colina felt more assured. "Oh, we're
sufficiently introduced by this time," she said offhand.

"But--what should I do at the fort?" he asked. "How can I see you
again?"

She smiled with a touch of scorn at his simplicity. "That is for you
to contrive. You will naturally call on my father; if he likes you, he
will bring you home to dinner."

Ambrose smiled with obscure meaning. "He will never do that," he said.

"Why not?" demanded Colina.

"My