was set, while by the way he moved she
fancied for the first time that he had hurt himself in his fall. She
could not understand how he had got the canoe down to the river; and
for that matter Weston, who had attempted it in a fit of anger, was
never very sure. Then she became conscious of a certain compunction.
The thing, she felt, had gone quite far enough, and when he drew level
with her she called to him.

"You needn't take any more trouble. I can go on by the trail, after
all," she said.

Weston looked up.

"There's no reason why you should do that," he replied. "I can't leave
the canoe here, anyway, and I can take you in a little lower down."

He went on without waiting for an answer, and though the trail was
very rough she had no difficulty in keeping abreast of him along the
bank. Indeed, she felt that when he reached the spot where she could
join him, he would have gone quite far enough, in view of the progress
he was making. Once or twice he floundered furiously as the stream
swept his feet from under him, and there were times when it seemed to
require all his strength to prevent the canoe from being rolled over
in the white rush of water that poured across some slippery ledge; but
he slowly plodded on, and, though she did not know why, she was glad
that he did so. It was, she was conscious, not altogether because he
was executing her command.

At length she joined him where the river flowed deep and smooth
beneath the pines again; and, when she had taken her place and he
dipped the paddle, she turned to him.

"How did you get the canoe down to the water? The rock is very steep."

"I'm not quite sure," answered Weston. "I think I let it slide.
Anyway, I shoved it over the edge. It went down too quickly for me to
remember exactly what it did. I'm afraid there are a few rather big
scratches on it."

"But how did you get down?"

The man smiled dryly.

"I believe I slid with it."

It occurred to Ida, who was commencing to feel a little ashamed of
having exerted her authority in such a manner, that she could afford
to be generous.

"I'm sorry I put you to so much trouble," she said. "But why didn't
you tell me it would be difficult?"

Weston ceased paddling a moment, and looked at her steadily.

"It's my place to do what I'm told. Besides, you said that you didn't
want to go back by the trail."

A slight flush crept into Ida's face.

"Wouldn't it have been better if you had done as I wanted,