nce to her presence. "But I ain't a very good
neighbor, I guess; I never seem to have time to be sociable. It's
lucky your horse fell close enough so yuh could walk in to camp; I've
had that happen to me more than once, and it ain't never pleasant--but
it's worse when there ain't any camp to walk to. I've had that happen,
too."

The fire was snapping by then, and manlike he swept the ashes to the
floor. The girl watched him, politely disapproving. "I don't want to
be a trouble," she said, with less of constraint; for Charming Billy,
whether he knew it or not, had reassured her immensely. "I know men
hate to cook, so when I get warm, and the water is hot, I'll cook
supper for you," she offered. "And then I won't mind having you help
me to get home."

"I guess it won't be any trouble--but I don't mind cooking. You--you
better set still and rest," murmured Charming Billy, quite red. Of
course, she would want supper--and there were dried apricots, and a
very little tapioca! He felt viciously that he could kill the Pilgrim
and be glad. The Pilgrim was already two days late with the supplies
he had been sent after because he was not to be trusted with the
duties pertaining to a line-camp--and Billy had not the wide charity
that could conjure excuses for the delinquent.

"I'll let you wash the dishes," promised Miss Bridger generously. "But
I'll cook the supper--really, I want to, you know. I won't say I'm
not hungry, because I am. This Western air does give one _such_ an
appetite, doesn't it? And then I walked miles, it seems to me; so that
ought to be an excuse, oughtn't it? Now, if you'll show me where the
coffee is--"

She had risen and was looking at him expectantly, with a half smile
that seemed to invite one to comradeship. Charming Billy looked at her
helplessly, and turned a shade less brown.

"The--there isn't any," he stammered guiltily. "The Pilgrim--I mean
Walland--Fred Walland--"

"It doesn't matter in the least," Miss Bridger assured him hastily.
"One can't keep everything in the house all the time, so far from any
town. We're often out of things, at home. Last week, only, I upset the
vanilla bottle, and then we were completely out of vanilla till just
yesterday." She smiled again confidingly, and Billy tried to seem very
sympathetic--though of a truth, to be out of vanilla did not at that
moment seem to him a serious catastrophe. "And really, I like tea
better, you know. I only said coffee because fathe