o can't keep out of penitentiary anywhere else. This thing
has me so worried I haven't appetite enough to care it's gone my feed
time by a quarter hour. Isn't Miss Prue through with the darn potatoes,
or--something?"

Millie laughed indulgently.

"I'll get along and see. You see, Miss Prue's a good and God-fearing
squaw, when she isn't smoking her pipe or sitting asleep over the
cook-stove. Anyway, I'll chase her up," and she bustled off in the
direction of the kitchen.

Left to himself Ian Ross forgot entirely that he was awaiting his
dinner. His deep-set eyes were turned to the view beyond the door, and
his thoughts were still further afield. He was thinking of the pretty,
eager face he had watched at the bachelors' dance at Deadwater. He was
thinking of the men who had approached Nita with the ceremony which had
so delighted her. He was old enough and wise enough to appreciate fully
the dangers she would be confronted with in Steve's absence, dangers
which it was more than likely Steve could not realize.

He liked Steve. For all their disparity of years a great friendship
existed between them. Steve was a man who would succeed in anything he
undertook. The doctor was sure of that. But--and this was the matter
that troubled him most--Steve had utter and complete faith in his wife,
the same as he had in all those who possessed his regard. Steve was a
man of single, simple purpose. Strong as a lion in the open battle where
the danger was apparent, but in the more subtle dangers of life he was a
child.

Well, there were men in their world who constituted just one of those
grave subtle dangers to Steve in Steve's absence. Ian Ross shared with
everybody else the hatred of Hervey Garstaing. He had seen Garstaing and
Nita together at the dance. He had seen them together at other times.
Oh,--he had never seen anything that was not perhaps perfectly
legitimate. But he knew Hervey Garstaing better than most people at
Deadwater. He saw far more of him than he desired. And Hervey was a
good-looking man. Nita was young and full of a youthful desire for a
good time. And then Hervey was also an unscrupulous hound whom it would
have given the doctor the greatest pleasure in life to shoot.

* * * * *

Ian Ross laughed out loud as he strode through the woods on his way to
the police post. A thought had occurred to him which pleased his simple
mind mightily. It was not a very profound thought. And