ow what love is. You say you love him
with your whole soul. And you are content to live without him. Psha!
Your soul must be a poor enough thing. I tell you life means nothing
to me without him. I can't and won't live without him."

* * * * * *

The black earth sped under the horses' hoofs. The stars shone like dew
on the velvet pall of night. Bud led, as he always led in the things
practical which belonged to his life.

He needed no thought for guidance on that night journey. Unerring
instinct served him across those wide plains. Spruce Crossing might
have possessed a beacon light, so straight, so unerring was the lead he
offered those behind him.

Now, perhaps, more than ever, all his great skill was put forth. For
he had listened to the complete, if halting, story of the man's wife,
and shared with her the conviction of treachery. For the time, at
least, all consideration for the woman was thrust aside. He offered no
words of blame. His concern was simply the succor of his friend.

Nan was ready to follow him whithersoever he led. She was ready to
obey his lightest command, for she understood his skill. She had no
thought for anything but the man she loved. No possibilities of
mischance, no threat to herself could find place in her thought. For
her Jeff's well-being was her single concern.

Elvine rode beside her, step for step. She had told her story as they
rode. After that silence between them prevailed. It was a silence
fraught with an emotion too deep for any words. A fierce jealousy
mingled with her passionate longing. Her world was empty of all but
two figures. The man she loved, and the girl who had confessed her
love with all the strength of a great, simple courage.

Whatever the night might bring forth, whatever tragedy might be in
store, she scarcely had thought for anything but her own almost mad
resolve. This girl, this child of the plains, should obtain no
advantage. She was prepared to yield all for the succor of the husband
who had scorned her--even to life itself.

CHAPTER XXIV

TO SPRUCE CROSSING

The eyes of the night were there alone to see. It was as well. There
are moments in men's lives when it is best that it should be so.
Passions are not always sane. They are not always human.

So it was with Jeffrey Masters. The change in him had been rapid. It
was almost magical. Always one who lacked something of the softer