is full, and--":

"You can't lie across the entrance to my tent and guard me, Jack.
Besides, I don't need you for that. The man who's with me will protect
me."

"He doesn't look capable of protecting a cat!"

"My father said that in any circumstances he would be able to take care
of me."

This reply seemed to overwhelm Landis.

"The colonel trusts him as far as all that?" he muttered. "Then I
suppose you're safe enough. But what about comfort, Lou?"

"I've done without comfort all my life. Run along, Jack. And take this
money with you. I can't have it."

"But, didn't the colonel send--"

"You can express it through to him. To me it's--not pleasant to take
it."

"Why, Lou, you don't mean--"

"Good night, Jack. I don't mean anything, except that I'm tired."

The shadow swept along the wall of the tent again. Donnegan, with a
shaking pulse, saw the profile of the girl and the man approach as he
strove to take her in his arms and kiss her good night. And then one
slender bar of shadow checked Landis.

"Not tonight."

"Lou, you aren't angry with me?"

"No. But you know I have queer ways. Just put this down as one of them.
I can't explain."

There was a muffled exclamation and Landis went from the tent and strode
down the hill; he was instantly lost in the night. But Donnegan, turning
to the entrance flap, called softly. He was bidden to come in, and when
he raised the flap he saw her sitting with her hands clasped loosely and
resting upon her knees. Her lips were a little parted, and colorless;
her eyes were dull with a mist; and though she rallied herself a little,
the wanderer could see that she was only half-aware of him.

The face which he saw was a milestone in his life. For he had loved her
jealously, fiercely before; but seeing her now, dazed, hurt, and
uncomplaining, tenderness came into Donnegan. It spread to his heart
with a strange pain and made his hands tremble.

All that he said was: "Is there anything you need?"

"Nothing," she replied, and he backed out and away.

But in that small interval he had turned out of the course of his gay,
selfish life. If Jack Landis had hurt her like this--if she loved him so
truly--then Jack Landis she should have.

There was an odd mixture of emotions in Donnegan; but he felt most
nearly like the poor man from whose hand his daughter tugs back and
looks wistfully, hopelessly, into the bright window at all the toys.
What pain is there greater than the