robbing excitement of the crowds that pressed against Him.

Suddenly The Pilot stopped, turned over the leaves and began again: "And
He led them out as far as to Bethany. And He lifted up His hands and
blessed them. And it came to pass as He blessed them He was parted from
them and a cloud received Him out of their sight." There was silence for
some minutes, then Gwen said:

"Where did He go?"

"Up into Heaven," answered The Pilot, simply.

"That's where mother is," she said to her father, who nodded in reply.

"Does He know?" she asked. The old man looked distressed.

"Of course He does," said The Pilot, "and she sees Him all the time."

"Oh, daddy!" she cried, "isn't that good?"

But the old man only hid his face in his hands and groaned.

"Yes," went on The Pilot, "and He sees us, too, and hears us speak, and
knows our thoughts."

Again the look of wonder and fear came into her eyes, but she said no
word. The experiences of the evening had made the world new to her. It
could never be the same to her again. It gave me a queer feeling to see
her, when we three kneeled to pray, stand helplessly looking on, not
knowing what to do, then sink beside her father, and, winding her arms
about his neck, cling to him as the words of prayer were spoken into the
ear of Him whom no man can see, but who we believe is near to all that
call upon Him.

Those were Gwen's first "prayers," and in them Gwen's part was small,
for fear and wonder filled her heart; but the day was to come, and all
too soon, when she should have to pour out her soul with strong crying
and tears. That day came and passed, but the story of it is not to be
told here.

CHAPTER XI

GWEN'S CHALLENGE

Gwen was undoubtedly wild and, as The Sky Pilot said, wilful and wicked.
Even Bronco Bill and Hi Kendal would say so, without, of course, abating
one jot of their admiration for her. For fourteen years she had lived
chiefly with wild things. The cattle on the range, wild as deer, the
coyotes, the jack-rabbits and the timber wolves were her mates and her
instructors. From these she learned her wild ways. The rolling prairie
of the Foothill country was her home. She loved it and all things that
moved upon it with passionate love, the only kind she was capable of.
And all summer long she spent her days riding up and down the range
alone, or with her father, or with Joe, or, best of all, with The
Duke, her hero and her friend. So she grew up strong, w