I going to get up to the mines today
after I look around here for Barb--where can I get a horse?"

Kate reflected a moment. "I can get you _some_ kind of a horse," she
said slowly. "But it would take you forever to get there on
horseback--the trail runs around by the river. The train will get you
there first. It goes up at four o'clock."

She knew she said it all blandly, though conscious of her duplicity.
It was not exactly falsehood that she spoke--but it was meant to
mislead. The man was regarding her steadily with eyes that seemed to
Kate not in the least double-dealing.

"What am I going to do till four o'clock?" he asked, making without
discussion her subtle suggestion his own.

She lifted her eyebrows disclaimingly--even shrugged her shoulders:
"What are you going to do?" he persisted. She was ready. She looked
longingly out of the window. The sun blazed over the desert in a riot
of gold.

"It's my day off," she observed, adding just a suspicion of discontent
and uncertainty to her words. She fingered her tie, too; then dropped
her eyes; and added, "I thought I might take a ride."

He started: "Couldn't get two horses, could you?"

"Two?" echoed Kate, looking surprised.

He rose: "I'll turn up two if I have to steal 'em," he declared,
reaching for his hat.

"That would be too much trouble for one little ride," Kate said
ironically. "I'll see what I can do, first. But," she added, basely,
"if you want to be sure of catching the train, I should advise you to
stay right here. It backs down and doesn't stay but a minute--just
long enough to hook on to the empties."

Her warning had no effect. It was not meant to have any. She knew if
he got to the mines and learned that her father was at the Junction he
would return in no time to serve him. He was decently restrained now,
but he swallowed her bait, hook and all: "Where do you think you can
find horses?" he asked.

"Where I work."

"Where do you work?"

"Sometimes here and sometimes up at Mr. Doubleday's cottage. The
barn-boy gets up a horse for me any time."

He raised an unexpected difficulty: "I wouldn't feel just right, today,
riding a horse of Barb Doubleday's," he said doubtfully.

The words only confirmed her suspicions. Her fears rose but her wits
did not desert her: "Ride mine," she suggested. "I've got my own
horse, of course."

He drew a breath: "All I can say is, if you ever come over my way, I'll
show you as good a