ntry here, Mr. Harris."

"That's right," he said; "and the longer you stay in it, the better
you like it. You'll be going to settle in it yourself some day."

"I'm not so sure about that," cried the girl, with a deeper blush,
and a saucy toss of her head. "It is a fine country, but it's no'
Scotland, ye ken, as my Aunt would say. My! but I'm fair starving."

It happened that the ride to the Galician colony, planned for
that afternoon by Mr. Penny the day before, had to be postponed.
Miss Marjorie was hardly up to it. "It must be the excitement of
the country," she explained carefully to Mr. Penny, "so I'll just
bide in the camp."

"Indeed, you are wise for once in your life," said her Aunt Janet.
"As for me, I'm fair dune out. With this hurly-burly of such
terrible excitement I wonder I did not faint right off."

"Hoots awa', Aunt Janet," said her niece, "it was no time for
fainting, I'm thinking, with yon wolf in the tent beside ye."

"Aye, lassie, you may well say so," said Aunt Janet, lapsing into
her native tongue, into which in unguarded moments she was rather
apt to fall, and which her niece truly loved to use, much to her
Aunt's disgust, who considered it a form of vulgarity to be avoided
with all care.

As the afternoon was wearing away, a wagon appeared in the
distance. The gentlemen were away from camp inspecting the
progress of the work down the line.

"There's something coming yonder," said Miss Marjorie, whose eyes
had often wandered down the trail that afternoon.

"Mercy on us! What can it be, and them all away," said her Aunt in
distress. "Put your saddle on and fly for your father or Mr. Harris.
I am terrified. It is this awful country. If ever I get out alive!"

"Hoots awa', Aunt, it's just a wagon."

"Marjorie, why will you use such vulgar expressions? Of course,
it's a wagon. Wha's--who's in it?"

"Indeed, I'm not caring," said her niece; "they'll no' eat us."

"Marjorie, behave yourself, I'm saying, and speak as you are
taught. Run away for your father."

"Indeed, Aunt, how could I do this and leave you here by yourself?
A wild Indian might run off with you."

"Mercy me! What a lassie! I'm fair distracted."

"Oh, Auntie dear," said Marjorie, with a change of voice, "it is
just a man bringing some oats. Mr. Harris told me he was to get a
load this afternoon. We will need to take them from him. Have you
any money? We must pay him, I suppose."

"Money?" cried her Aunt. "What is the