would say with a reminiscent inflection. As a matter of fact, however, the
trail looked innocent enough at the first glance, and Scott's pessimism
may be laid partly to the circumstances under which the trip was attempted
and partly to the fact that Scott almost always hated to change his mind.

"How long will it be, do you suppose, before you can send back for the
others?" queried Polly, as they rode away.

"Well, we ought to make Athens to-night," replied Scott, thoughtfully.
"Tom could start back with our wagon early in the morning. Cochise and
this fellow I'm riding, Jasper, could make it."

"They'll have to stay at the Sorias' all night. They'll be very
uncomfortable."

"Oh, I don't know. They're neither of them tenderfeet. They'll get
along."

"It'll be very romantic, of course, and very exciting," sighed Polly.

"Romantic? Why?"

"Well, people have a way of making love to widows," said Polly, wistfully.
"And anybody with half an eye can see that he likes her."

"Shucks! Hard's a gentleman; he won't think he has to be rude to a woman
just because he's left alone with her overnight."

"It isn't being rude to ask a woman to marry you if you happen to like
her, is it?" demanded Polly, with spirit.

"It is, under some circumstances," replied Scott, shortly. "You're pretty
romantic, aren't you, for a grown-up girl?"

"I? Not at all." Polly flushed, indignantly. "But I'm interested when I
see two people that I like falling nicely in love with each other."

"She's not in love with him or she'd have married him when she had the
chance," said Scott, authoritatively. "She's an ambitious woman; what does
she want of a man buried in a coal mine?"

"She may have changed. That was a long time ago," ventured the girl. "And
if she cares for him, she might forget her ambition. Women do,
sometimes."

"Yes, in books they do," replied Scott, moodily. "But I never saw a woman
in her class give up anything she really wanted just to marry a poor man.
If she did, she'd probably make him miserable afterward, when she was
sorry she'd done it."

They rode a while in silence. Polly was hurt and angry. It occurred to her
that Scott's objection to her romantic imaginings was based on something
deeper than just his usual argumentativeness. Perhaps her imagination had
misled her in regard to what had been in his eyes the night before. Or
rather, not her imagination, but her vanity. It was a disagreeable thought
for one who had