retorted emphatically, and imitating the
other's lofty tone, "George Iredale just worships the ground you walk
on. One word of encouragement from you, if you haven't already given
it to him, and in a short time you will be the mistress of Lonely
Ranch."

"Nothing of the sort"

"My dear girl, I know."

"You know less than you think you do, and I am not going to listen to
any more of your nonsense."

Prudence touched her horse's flank with her heel and trotted on ahead
of her companion. But in her heart she knew that what Alice had said
was true.

Alice called after her to wait. The trees were so closely set that she
had difficulty in steering clear of them; but Prudence was obdurate
and kept right on. Nor did she draw rein until the shore of the lake
was reached, and then only did she do so because of the impassable
tangle of undergrowth which confronted her. Just as Alice came up with
her she started off again at right angles to the direction they had
come, riding parallel with the bank. Alice, breathless and laughing,
followed in her wake, until at length a break in the trees showed them
a grassy patch which sank slowly down in a gentle declivity to the
water's edge. By the time this was reached Prudence's good-humour was
quite restored.

"A nice dance you've led me," expostulated Alice, as they dismounted
and began to off-saddle.

"Serves you right for your impertinence," Prudence smiled over at the
other.

"All the same I'm right."

"Now keep quiet, or I'll ride off again and leave you."

"So you can if you like; this old mare I'm riding will take me home
straight as the crow flies. What's that?"

Out across the water came a long-drawn cry, so weird yet so human that
the two girls stood still as statues, their faces blanching under
their tan. The echoes seemed to die hard, growing slowly fainter and
fainter. Alice's eyes were widely staring and filled with an
expression of horror. Prudence recovered herself first. She laughed a
little constrainedly, however.

"We are in the region of Owl Hoot," she said significantly. "That was
one of the screech-owls."

"O-oh! I thought it was some one being murdered."

"We shall probably hear lots of strange cries; these regions are
renowned for them. You've got the kettle on your saddle, Al. Get all
the things out whilst I gather some kindling and make a fire."

"For goodness' sake don't leave me here alone for long," Alice
entreated. "I won't mention George