if each
could have read the unsaid words that quivered on the other's heart,
Thorpe would have returned to the Fighting Forty more tranquilly, while
she would probably not have returned to the camping party at all for a
number of hours.

"I do not think you had better come with me," she said. "Make your call
and be forgiven on your own account. I don't want to drag you in at my
chariot wheels."

"All right. I'll come this afternoon," Thorpe had replied.

"I love her, I must have her. I must go--at once," his soul had cried,
"quick--now--before I kiss her!"

"How strong he is," she said to herself, "how brave-looking; how honest!
He is different from the other men. He is magnificent."

Chapter XLI

That afternoon Thorpe met the other members of the party, offered his
apologies and explanations, and was graciously forgiven. He found the
personnel to consist of, first of all, Mrs. Cary, the chaperone, a very
young married woman of twenty-two or thereabouts; her husband, a youth
of three years older, clean-shaven, light-haired, quiet-mannered; Miss
Elizabeth Carpenter, who resembled her brother in the characteristics of
good-looks, vivacious disposition and curly hair; an attendant satellite
of the masculine persuasion called Morton; and last of all the girl whom
Thorpe had already so variously encountered and whom he now met as Miss
Hilda Farrand. Besides these were Ginger, a squab negro built to fit the
galley of a yacht; and three Indian guides. They inhabited tents, which
made quite a little encampment.

Thorpe was received with enthusiasm. Wallace Carpenter's stories of his
woods partner, while never doing more than justice to the truth, had
been of a warm color tone. One and all owned a lively curiosity to see
what a real woodsman might be like. When he proved to be handsome and
well mannered, as well as picturesque, his reception was no longer in
doubt.

Nothing could exceed his solicitude as to their comfort and amusement.
He inspected personally the arrangement of the tents, and suggested one
or two changes conducive to the littler comforts. This was not much like
ordinary woods-camping. The largest wall-tent contained three
folding cots for the women, over which, in the daytime, were flung
bright-colored Navajo blankets. Another was spread on the ground. Thorpe
later, however, sent over two bear skins, which were acknowledgedly an
improvement. To the tent pole a mirror of size was nailed, and belo