hat hinted at piquance. And the waving
corn silk of her altogether charming and unruly hair, the superb column
of her long neck on which her little head poised proudly like a flower,
her supple body, whose curves had the long undulating grace of the
current in a swift river, her slender white hand with the pointed
fingers--all these he saw one after the other, and his soul shouted
within him at the sight. He wrestled with the emotions that choked him.
"Ah, God! Ah, God!" he cried softly to himself like one in pain. He,
the man of iron frame, of iron nerve, hardened by a hundred emergencies,
trembled in every muscle before a straight, slender girl, clad all in
brown, standing alone in the middle of the ancient forest.

In a moment she stirred slightly, and turned. Drawing herself to her
full height, she extended her hands over her head palm outward,
and, with an indescribably graceful gesture, half mockingly bowed a
ceremonious adieu to the solemn trees. Then with a little laugh she
moved away in the direction of the river.

At once Thorpe proved a great need of seeing her again. In his present
mood there was nothing of the awe-stricken peace he had experienced
after the moonlight adventure. He wanted the sight of her as he had
never wanted anything before. He must have it, and he looked about him
fiercely as though to challenge any force in Heaven or Hell that would
deprive him of it. His eyes desired to follow the soft white curve of
her cheek, to dance with the light of her corn-silk hair, to delight in
the poetic movements of her tall, slim body, to trace the full outline
of her chin, to wonder at the carmine of her lips, red as a blood-spot
on the snow. These things must be at once. The strong man desired it.
And finding it impossible, he raged inwardly and tore the tranquillities
of his heart, as on the shores of the distant Lake of Stars, the
bull-moose trampled down the bushes in his passion.

So it happened that he ate hardly at all that day, and slept ill, and
discovered the greatest difficulty in preserving the outward semblance
of ease which the presence of Tim Shearer and the Fighting Forty
demanded.

And next day he saw her again, and the next, because the need of his
heart demanded it, and because, simply enough, she came every afternoon
to the clump of pines by the old pole trail.

Now had Thorpe taken the trouble to inquire, he could have learned
easily enough all there was to be known of the affair