looking."

Scott smiled. "Will it spoil it for you if I eat a sandwich?" he said.

"Not if there's one for me, too," laughed the girl. "But I thought you
left all the lunch with the others."

"Not all. I'm too good a woodsman to go on a strange trail with nothing to
eat in my saddle-bag. Luckily I didn't have to leave them the canteen."
They ate the sandwiches--saving a portion for dinner in case they were
late reaching Athens--and washed them down with warm water from the
canteen.

"Let's look around the corner before we mount again," suggested the girl.
"I like to know what's ahead of me."

"Around the corner" was a slope down into the ravine, more gradual than
before and green with stunted grass and mesquite. Here and there a cactus
rose gauntly, some in the tall Spanish bayonet with its lovely bloom, and
some in the low, dagger-like plant close to the ground. Above them, on the
right side rose the rocky wall of the mountain, not altogether sheer in
its ascent, but curving in and then out at the top, the upper ridge
forming a shelf. Mesquite grew seemingly out of the solid rock.

"Oh, look," exclaimed the girl. "There's almost a little cave up there
under that shelf! It could be a rustler's cave if there were any rustlers
around."

"There are more rustlers than there are things to rustle," remarked her
companion.

Standing on the narrow trail, they looked over and down into the valley.
It was lonely to look at; not a house, not a living creature, and yet so
very beautiful--with a warmth of color and sunshine. Polly did not speak.
Her eyes were fixed on the scene below. She did not see the look on
Scott's face as he stood beside her, gazing not at the valley but at the
purity of her face so near his shoulder.

It was very still. Suddenly a bird flew from one of the bushes, flew
across the rock in front of their faces. Polly, her thought broken, turned
quickly and surprised the hungry look in Scott's eyes. Her face flushed
and neither spoke. Then, impulsively, he took her in his arms and kissed
her passionately, Polly, sobbing, clinging to him in a silence full of
meaning. As suddenly Scott put her away from him, holding her and looking
into her eyes.

"Do you mean it?" he demanded almost angrily. "You're not playing with
me?"

Polly did not answer. She looked up into his eyes, her own still wet. He
took her in his arms again.

"I don't see why!" he said, softly. "There's nothing about me for you to
fal