the shadowing cedars?
He could not tell; but the fact remained.

"You hear me, Nan; I'm going to take care of you when I'm able. No
matter what happens, I'm going to take care of you," was what he said;
and a low rumbling of thunder and a spattering of rain on the leaves
punctuated the promise.

She looked away and was silent. Then, when the rain began to come
faster: "Let's run, Tom. I don't mind gettin' wet; but you mustn't."

They reached the great rock sheltering the barrel-spring before the
shower broke in earnest, and Tom led the way to the right. Half-way up
its southern face the big boulder held a water-worn cavity, round, and
deeply hollowed, and carpeted with cedar needles. Tom climbed in first
and gave her a hand from the mouth of the little cavern. When she was up
and in, there was room in the nest-like hollow, but none to spare. And
on the instant the summer shower shut down upon the mountain side and
closed the cave mouth as with a thick curtain.

There was no speech in that little interval of cloud-lowering and
cloud-lifting. The boy tried for it, would have taken up the confidences
where the storm-coming had broken them off; but it was blankly
impossible. All the curious thrills foregone seemed to culminate now in
a single burning desire: to have it rain for ever, that he might nestle
there in the hollow of the great rock with Nan so close to him that he
could feel the warmth of her body and the quick beating of her heart
against his arm.

Yet the sleeping conscience did not stir. The moment of recognition was
withheld even when the cloud curtain began to lift and he could see the
long lashes drooped over the dark eyes, and the flush in the brown cheek
matching his own.

"Nan!" he whispered, catching his breath; "you're--you're the--"

She slipped away from him before he could find the word, and a moment
later she was calling to him from below that the rain was over and she
must hurry.

He walked beside her to the door of the miserable log shack under the
second cliff, still strangely shaken, but striving manfully to be
himself again. The needed fillip came when the mountaineer staggered to
the threshold to swear thickly at his daughter. In times past, Tom would
quickly have put distance between himself and Tike Bryerson in the
squirrel-eyed stage of intoxication. But now his promise to Nan was
behind him, and the Gordon blood was to the fore.

"It was my fault that Nan stayed so long," he sai