nd meadow-lark. A clarion-voiced burro split the air
with his coarse and homely bray. The sheep were bleating, and a soft baa
of little lambs came sweetly to Helen's ears. She went her usual rounds
with more than usual zest and thrill. Everywhere was color, activity,
life. The wind swept warm and pine-scented down from the mountain
heights, now black and bold, and the great green slopes seemed to call
to her.

At that very moment she came suddenly upon Dale, in his shirt-sleeves,
dusty and hot, standing motionless, gazing at the distant mountains.
Helen's greeting startled him.

"I--I was just looking away yonder," he said, smiling. She thrilled at
the clear, wonderful light of his eyes.

"So was I--a moment ago," she replied, wistfully. "Do you miss the
forest--very much?"

"Nell, I miss nothing. But I'd like to ride with you under the pines
once more."

"We'll go," she cried.

"When?" he asked, eagerly.

"Oh--soon!" And then with flushed face and downcast eyes she passed on.
For long Helen had cherished a fond hope that she might be married in
Paradise Park, where she had fallen in love with Dale and had realized
herself. But she had kept that hope secret. Dale's eager tone, his
flashing eyes, had made her feel that her secret was there in her
telltale face.

As she entered the lane leading to the house she encountered one of the
new stable-boys driving a pack-mule.

"Jim, whose pack is that?" she asked.

"Ma'am, I dunno, but I heard him tell Roy he reckoned his name was mud,"
replied the boy, smiling.

Helen's heart gave a quick throb. That sounded like Las Vegas. She
hurried on, and upon entering the courtyard she espied Roy Beeman
holding the halter of a beautiful, wild-looking mustang. There was
another horse with another man, who was in the act of dismounting on the
far side. When he stepped into better view Helen recognized Las Vegas.
And he saw her at the same instant.

Helen did not look up again until she was near the porch. She had
dreaded this meeting, yet she was so glad that she could have cried
aloud.

"Miss Helen, I shore am glad to see you," he said, standing bareheaded
before her, the same young, frank-faced cowboy she had seen first from
the train.

"Tom!" she exclaimed, and offered her hands.

He wrung them hard while he looked at her. The swift woman's glance
Helen gave in return seemed to drive something dark and doubtful out of
her heart. This was the same boy she had known-