es."

"You'll be able to lead us to Surprise Valley, you think?"

"I know it. I shall see Uncle Jim and Mother Jane before sunset!"

"I hope--you do," he replied, a little shakily. "Perhaps we'd better not
tell them of the--the--about what happened last night."

Her beautiful, grave, and troubled glance returned to meet his, and
he received a shock that he considered was amaze. And after more swift
consideration he believed he was amazed because that look, instead of
betraying fear or gloom or any haunting shadow of darkness, betrayed
apprehension for him--grave, sweet, troubled love for him. She was not
thinking of herself at all--of what he might think of her, of a possible
gulf between them, of a vast and terrible change in the relation of
soul to soul. He experienced a profound gladness. Though he could not
understand her, he was happy that the horror of Waggoner's death had
escaped her. He loved her, he meant to give his life to her, and right
then and there he accepted the burden of her deed and meant to bear it
without ever letting her know of the shadow between them.

"Fay, we'll forget--what's behind us," he said. "Now to find Surprise
Valley. Lead on. Nack-yal is gentle. Pull him the way you want to go.
We'll follow."

Shefford mounted the other saddled mustang, and they set off, Fay
in advance. Presently they rode out of this canyon up to level
cedar-patched, solid rock, and here Fay turned straight west. Evidently
she had been over the ground before. The heights to which he had climbed
with her were up to the left, great slopes and looming promontories. And
the course she chose was as level and easy as any he could have picked
out in that direction.

When a mile or more of this up-and-down travel had been traversed Fay
halted and appeared to be at fault. The plateau was losing its rounded,
smooth, wavy characteristics, and to the west grew bolder, more rugged,
more cut up into low crags and buttes. After a long, sweeping glance Fay
headed straight for this rougher country. Thereafter from time to time
she repeated this action.

"Fay, how do you know you're going in the right direction?" asked
Shefford, anxiously.

"I never forget any ground I've been over. I keep my eyes close ahead.
All that seems strange to me is the wrong way. What I've seen, before
must be the right way, because I saw it when they brought me from
Surprise Valley."

Shefford had to acknowledge that she was following an Indian'