s though she would hypnotize
him into looking up.

But her mind and eyes had no power over him. He kept on with his even
gait until he was lost behind the clump of trees which marked the
branching of the trail. One chance was gone; she might not know the
issue of the other until time and waiting informed her. How long
before she should know? She crouched low on the rock and tried not to
think.

The twigs and pebbles crunched under heavy feet; the branches shook
and rustled; a blue sweater became visible in the shadows. She looked
away.

"Well, I'll be--eternally blowed!" His voice came out like an
explosion. Much as she expected it, she started. When, after a moment,
she dared look up, he stood over her.

"Are you going to run away?" he asked. His voice, with its ripple like
laughter, showed that he expected nothing of the kind.

"No," she answered, superfluously.

He seemed, then, to feel the necessity for explanation.

"I hadn't an idea--"

"Neither had I." She broke in to anticipate his thought. Each was
lying a little; and both knew it. She rushed to commonplaces.

"Uncle Edward and I are at Mrs. Goodyear's bungalow over Sunday. It's
our last expedition out of town before we go down to the ranch."

"Well, I must have had a hunch! I'm at the Masters ranch over Sunday.
I got a freak idea to take a walk alone. It sure was a hunch!" Soft
sentiment tinged his voice. She answered nothing.

"A hunch that you were alone here, nobody to interrupt--say, are you
still sore on me?"

"I--I didn't run away--"

"Oh, I knew you'd get over it. I think even the Judge will get over
it. I don't believe he'd care anyhow, if it wasn't for his old grouch
on Senator Northrup."

"Perhaps. He's said nothing--to me--"

"But it's you I care about. Only you. I told you that and I mean it. I
don't want you to be sore--I'd go back and bury myself in the old
office for life if I thought it would make it different with you."

"Would you, Bertram?"

He leaned close to her; she could feel his compelling eyes burning
into her averted face. With one part of her, she was conscious that
here was a crisis too great for her fully to feel; with the other
part, she was aware that an ant, dragging a ridiculously heavy straw,
was toiling up her rock.

Now he had her hand, which lay inert in his; now his arm was about her
shoulder; and now he was speaking again:

"Can't you? Can't you stop looking down on me and believe I'm going to
b