swinging around
suddenly, he saw Miss Stirling standing in the shadow of a great
cedar. He had been too busy during the journey up the river to pay
much attention to her; but now it occurred to him that she was not
only pretty but very much in harmony with her surroundings. The
simple, close-fitting gray dress which, though he did not know this,
had cost a good many dollars, displayed a pretty and not over-slender
figure, and fitted in with the neutral tinting of the towering fir trunks
and the sunlit boulders, while the plain white hat with bent-down brim
formed an appropriate setting for the delicately-colored face beneath
it. Still, Weston scarcely noticed any particular points in Miss
Stirling's appearance just then, for he was subconsciously impressed
by her personality as a whole. There was something in her dress and
manner that he would have described vaguely as style, though it was a
style he had not often come across in the west, where he had for the
most part lived in the bush. She was evidently a little younger than
himself, but she had the quiet air of one accustomed to command,
which, as a matter of fact, was the case.

Then he wondered with a slight uneasiness whether she had heard all
that he said when he fell down. He fancied that she had, for there was
the faintest trace of amusement in her eyes. They met his own
steadily, though he was not sure whether they were gray or blue, or a
very light brown. Indeed, he was never quite sure of this, for they
changed curiously with the light.

Then she came toward him and looked at the valise.

"It was locked when I gave it to you," she said, with a trace of
severity.

"Well," answered Weston, "it doesn't seem to be locked now. I think I
remember noticing that you left the key in it; but it's gone. It must
have fallen out. I'll look for it."

He looked for some time, and, failing to find it, walked back to the
girl.

"I'm afraid it's in the river," he said. "Still, you see, the bag is
open."

"That," replied Miss Stirling, "is unfortunately evident. I want it
shut."

Weston glanced at the protruding garments with which she seemed to be
busy.

"I'm very sorry," he said. "I dare say I could squeeze these things
back into it."

He was going to do so when Miss Stirling took the bag away from him.

"No," she said a trifle quickly, "I don't think you could."

Then it occurred to Weston that his offer had, perhaps, not been
altogether tactful, and he wa