was set in motion, and the long, lean arm was
reaching out.

Not less than a thousand miles of weary toil and infinite peril lay
before Steve and his two Indian helpers. And a second thousand miles
before the little home at Deadwater could hope to see him again. It was
an overwhelming thought. Small blame to the heart that quailed before
such an undertaking.

Steve had no thought for the immensity of the labour confronting him. He
had no thought for anything but the purpose of his life. He knew that
successful completion of the work before him would set the seal to his
ambitions. He would then be able to lay at the feet of the girl who was
the mother of his child the promotion to Superintendentship which should
take her away from the dreary life of hardship which he knew to be so
rapidly undermining that moral strength which was not abundantly hers.

These were the moments of the man's farewell to all that made up the
spiritual side of his earthly life. It might be a final farewell. He
could not tell. He knew the perils that lay ahead of him. But a great,
passionate optimism burned deep down in his heart and refused him
thought of disaster.

He was in the partially dismantled parlour with Nita and his baby girl.
The last detail for the future of these two had been considered and
prepared. At the moment of his going, Nita, too, would bid farewell to
the post. And the precious home, the work of months of happy labour,
would be passed on to the service of Steve's successor.

It was a moment that would surely live in the hearts of both. It was a
moment when tearful eyes would leave to memory a picture perhaps to
lighten the dreary months to come, a sign, a beacon, a consolation and
support, a living hope for the painful months of separation when no word
or sign could pass between them. They were moments sacred to husband and
wife, upon which no earthly eyes have right to gaze.

The door opened and Steve passed out into the smiling sunshine. His
steady eyes were dull and lustreless. His firm lips were a shade more
tightly compressed. For the rest his limbs moved vigorously, his step
lacked nothing of its wonted Spring.

As he left the doorway his place was taken by Nita, who bore the waking
infant Coqueline in her arms. Both were dressed ready to pass on to
their new home.

Steve was clad for the summer trail, and his leather chapps creaked, and
his spurs clanked as he passed round to the tying post at which his
h