osting in pink and white, a diminutive tin
of sardines, and two bottles of soda-water.

"Fine," he chuckled, "as far as it goes. Now we'll complete the larder.
A small coffee-pot, handful of coffee, a tin of condensed milk, a dime's
worth of sugar, can of corned beef, block of butter, loaf of bread, two
tin cups. Your marketing," he grinned at her, "we'll have for dessert."

"I didn't know," countered Gloria, making a face at him, "that I was
entertaining a starved wild man for lunch."

"You'll eat your half, I'll bet, and be ready for more a long time
before we get home."

Gloria, impatient to be on the homeward trail, assumed command in a way
which delighted King; he glimpsed the fact that she had always had her
way and was thoroughly accustomed to the issuance of orders which were
to be obeyed; further, he found her little way of Princess Gloria
entirely captivating: already she was bullying him as all of her life
she had bullied his old friend Ben.

"I'll get all of the parcels together," was what she said, "while you go
for the horses. And you'll hurry, won't you, Mark?"

"On the run, Your Majesty," he laughed.

When he had saddled and returned to her Gloria was waiting with the
various purchases in a barley-sack; she made a great pretence of being
weighted down by the great bulk of provisions demanded by man's
appetite. He took the bag from her, lifted her into her saddle, and they
rode away. Gloria flicked her horse lightly with her whip and galloped
ahead; as King followed he turned in the saddle and looked back toward
Honeycutt's cabin. He was pulled two ways: by the girlish figure ahead,
which he must follow, since it was his responsibility to bring her back
to his friend Ben; by what he fancied happening between Brodie and
Honeycutt. Brodie had been in ugly mood all along; he would be in uglier
mood now after King's interruption and the shotgun episode. Nor could
King forget what he had seen on Lookout Ridge. If Swen Brodie were sure
enough of what he was about to rid himself of Andy Parker, what would he
not do with old Honeycutt?

"I ought to go back," was what King said over and over to himself as he
rode steadily on after Gloria. The last roof lost to sight as they
turned into the mouth of a canon, he shook off all thought of returning,
overtook Gloria, and determined to forget both Honeycutt and Brodie for
the rest of the day. To-morrow would be another day.

"There are hundreds of pretty place