nswered with perfect calmness. "There may be
a few of them prowling about. They often come out at night at some
distance from the ranches."

Jean and Harry cantered up. "Hasn't the ride been just too beautiful?"
Jean sighed. "I can't bear to think we must turn back to go home."

"Home? Why it's not late," Harry argued, but Jean shook her head.

"We have got to try the forest trail for just a little bit of the way,
Jean," Jack pleaded recklessly. "We won't go far in. It will be like
fairyland in there to-night. See how plain the trail is, there must be
water somewhere and the trail was made by the deer and antelope on the
way to the pool to drink. To-night I shan't believe that anybody knows
of these woods but us."

Jack did not wait for an answer. She would not listen to Jean's
remonstrance, for all the willfulness in her was aroused and she thought
only of her own desire.

She turned Hotspur's head into the woods. There was no chance to ride
beside her, as the way was too narrow, so the rest of the party followed
in single file.

"You ought to have let me go on ahead, Jack," Harry declared in a
worried tone. "You know nothing of this trail and you may come to
grief!"

Jacqueline laughed teasingly. "Don't be preachy, Harry. You know Hotspur
and I are used to looking after ourselves." Jack whistled like a naughty
boy:

"On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flying fishes play,"--

and waved her hand to the others to follow her at a sharper pace.

"Jack's awfully silly to-night," Jean remarked to Frank Kent. "I hope
Aunt Sallie won't mind, but there is nothing for us to do but to keep up
with her. We won't get back to the ranch until awfully late."

Frank hesitated. "Look here, Miss Bruce, I know I am a tenderfoot, but
do you think we ought to go into these woods at night? Don't think,
please, that I am afraid for myself. But Miss Ralston just told me that
there might be wolves about. I am not armed, though I believe that Harry
has his pistol. I should hate to have you get in trouble."

Jean understood Frank Kent better than Jacqueline did. To tell the
truth, he seemed a bit slow to Jack, she liked people with more get up
and go, more fire and energy in them. But Jean guessed that Frank had
plenty of strength and courage beneath his quiet manner, and Jean was
right.

"Wolves don't attack parties, not once in a thousand times," Jean
explained simply. "And we are making entirely too much n