al and sensible, thank goodness!"

"But, for the sake of argument," protested Bo, with flashing eyes,
"suppose it MIGHT happen. Just to please me, suppose we DID get shut up
here with Dale and that cowboy we saw from the train. Shut in without
any hope of ever climbing out.... What would you do? Would you give up
and pine away and die? Or would you fight for life and whatever joy it
might mean?"

"Self-preservation is the first instinct," replied Helen, surprised at
a strange, deep thrill in the depths of her. "I'd fight for life, of
course."

"Yes. Well, really, when I think seriously I don't want anything like
that to happen. But, just the same, if it DID happen I would glory in
it."

While they were talking Dale returned with the horses.

"Can you bridle an' saddle your own horse?" he asked.

"No. I'm ashamed to say I can't," replied Bo.

"Time to learn then. Come on. Watch me first when I saddle mine."

Bo was all eyes while Dale slipped off the bridle from his horse and
then with slow, plain action readjusted it. Next he smoothed the back of
the horse, shook out the blanket, and, folding it half over, he threw
it in place, being careful to explain to Bo just the right position. He
lifted his saddle in a certain way and put that in place, and then he
tightened the cinches.

"Now you try," he said.

According to Helen's judgment Bo might have been a Western girl all her
days. But Dale shook his head and made her do it over.

"That was better. Of course, the saddle is too heavy for you to sling
it up. You can learn that with a light one. Now put the bridle on
again. Don't be afraid of your hands. He won't bite. Slip the bit in
sideways.... There. Now let's see you mount."

When Bo got into the saddle Dale continued: "You went up quick an'
light, but the wrong way. Watch me."

Bo had to mount several times before Dale was satisfied. Then he told
her to ride off a little distance. When Bo had gotten out of earshot
Dale said to Helen: "She'll take to a horse like a duck takes to water."
Then, mounting, he rode out after her.

Helen watched them trotting and galloping and running the horses round
the grassy park, and rather regretted she had not gone with them.
Eventually Bo rode back, to dismount and fling herself down, red-cheeked
and radiant, with disheveled hair, and curls damp on her temples. How
alive she seemed! Helen's senses thrilled with the grace and charm
and vitality of this surprising siste