that led to Ryan's sheep camp, at a point
several miles west of the cabin where Carley had encountered Haze
Ruff. She remembered the curves and stretches, and especially the steep
jump-off where the road led down off the rim into the canyon. Here she
dismounted and walked. From the foot of this descent she knew every rod
of the way would be familiar to her, and, womanlike, she wanted to
turn away and fly from them. But she kept on and mounted again at level
ground.

The murmur of the creek suddenly assailed her ears--sweet, sad,
memorable, strangely powerful to hurt. Yet the sound seemed of long ago.
Down here summer had advanced. Rich thick foliage overspread the winding
road of sand. Then out of the shade she passed into the sunnier regions
of isolated pines. Along here she had raced Calico with Glenn's bay;
and here she had caught him, and there was the place she had fallen.
She halted a moment under the pine tree where Glenn had held her in his
arms. Tears dimmed her eyes. If only she had known then the truth, the
reality! But regrets were useless.

By and by a craggy red wall loomed above the trees, and its pipe-organ
conformation was familiar to Carley. She left the road and turned to go
down to the creek. Sycamores and maples and great bowlders, and mossy
ledges overhanging the water, and a huge sentinel pine marked the spot
where she and Glenn had eaten their lunch that last day. Her mustang
splashed into the clear water and halted to drink. Beyond, through the
trees, Carley saw the sunny red-earthed clearing that was Glenn's farm.
She looked, and fought herself, and bit her quivering lip until she
tasted blood. Then she rode out into the open.

The whole west side of the canyon had been cleared and cultivated and
plowed. But she gazed no farther. She did not want to see the spot where
she had given Glenn his ring and had parted from him. She rode on. If
she could pass West Fork she believed her courage would rise to the
completion of this ordeal. Places were what she feared. Places that she
had loved while blindly believing she hated! There the narrow gap of
green and blue split the looming red wall. She was looking into West
Fork. Up there stood the cabin. How fierce a pang rent her breast! She
faltered at the crossing of the branch stream, and almost surrendered.
The water murmured, the leaves rustled, the bees hummed, the birds
sang--all with some sad sweetness that seemed of the past.

Then the trail l