he pony to a tree. Seating
herself on a flat rock near the canyon edge, she settled herself to wait.

It seemed a long time. Twice after half-past two she looked at her watch,
impatiently. At three she looked again; and, disappointed, she was about
to rise to go to her pony, when she heard the rapid drumming of hoofs
near her.

With leaping heart and flushed face she turned her back to the direction
from which the sounds seemed to come and waited listening, trying to
appear unconcerned. She would make him believe she had not heard him. He
did care, after all, enough to part with his companions--for her sake.
She had misjudged him, and she was sincerely repentant. And when she
heard his pony come to a halt near her she had to clench her hands to
keep from turning to face him.

She heard him dismount, heard the rustle and crackling of twigs under his
feet as he approached, and then, feeling that it would be futile to
dissemble further, she turned, a smile on her lips.

Standing within five feet of her, grinning with amusement, was Tom
Chavis. Curiously enough, despite her former fear of the man she did not
fear him now, and after the first shock of surprise she looked at him
composedly, for she half suspected that Masten had sent him, fearing that
she _would_ wait in spite of his admonition not to do so. She got up and
faced Chavis.

"Mr. Masten couldn't come, I suppose?" she said.

"That's right," he said, looking at her oddly; "he couldn't come. You
see, he's sort of taken a shine to a biscuit shooter in Crogan's, over in
Lazette, an' he couldn't very well break away."

"A biscuit shooter!" she said, uncomprehendingly.

"Sure. I reckon that back East you'd call her a waitress, or somethin'. I
ain't admirin' his taste none. She ain't nowheres near as good-lookin' as
you."

Her first emotion was one of sickening, maddening jealousy. It made her
physically weak, and she trembled as she fought it down. But the
sensation passed and, though she felt that her face was hot and flushed,
the cold calm of righteous resentment was slowly seizing her.

"Did Mr. Masten send you here to tell me this?" she asked icily.

"Why, no. I did it on my own hook. I knowed you'd be waitin'--I heard you
makin' the date with Willard, this mornin'. An' I figgered that what was
fair for one was fair for another. So I sneaked away from Willard an'
come here. I've taken quite a shine to you, ma'am; you've sure got me
some flustered. An' I