can't say how or what. Maybe we were flowers or birds. I've a weakness
for that idea."

"Birds! I like the thought, too," replied Columbine. "I love most birds.
But there are hawks, crows, buzzards!"

"I reckon. Lass, there's got to be balance in nature. If it weren't for
the ugly an' the evil, we wouldn't know the beautiful an' good.... An'
now let's ride home. It's gettin' late."

"Ben, ought I not go back to Wilson right now?" she asked, slowly.

"What for?"

"To tell him--something--and why I can't come to-morrow, or ever
afterward," she replied, low and tremulously.

Wade pondered over her words. It seemed to Columbine that her sharpened
faculties sensed something of hostility, of opposition in him.

"Reckon to-morrow would be better," he said, presently. "Wilson's had
enough excitement for one day."

"Then I'll go to-morrow," she returned.

In the gathering, cold twilight they rode down the trail in silence.

"Good night, lass," said Wade, as he reached his cabin. "An' remember
you're not alone any more."

"Good night, my friend," she replied, and rode on.

Columbine encountered Jim Montana at the corrals, and it was not too
dark for her to see his foam-lashed horse. Jim appeared non-committal,
almost surly. But Columbine guessed that he had ridden to Kremmling and
back in one day, on some order of Jack's.

"Miss Collie, I'll tend to Pronto," he offered. "An' yore supper'll be
waitin'."

A bright fire blazed on the living-room hearth. The rancher was reading
by its light.

"Hello, rosy-cheeks!" greeted the rancher, with unusual amiability.
"Been ridin' ag'in' the wind, hey? Wal, if you ain't pretty, then my
eyes are pore!"

"It's cold, dad," she replied, "and the wind stings. But I didn't ride
fast nor far.... I've been up to see Wilson Moore."

"Ahuh! Wal, how's the boy?" asked Belllounds, gruffly.

"He said he was all right, but--but I guess that's not so," responded
Columbine.

"Any friends lookin' after him?"

"Oh yes--he must have friends--the Andrewses and others. I'm glad to say
his cabin is comfortable. He'll be looked after."

"Wal, I'm glad to hear thet. I'll send Lem or Wade up thar an' see if we
can do anythin' fer the boy."

"Dad--that's just like you," replied Columbine, with her hand seeking
his broad shoulder.

"Ahuh! Say, Collie, hyar's letters from 'most everybody in Kremmlin'
wantin' to be invited up fer October first. How about askin' 'em?"

"The more the merrier