saw the way marked straight before her; for Robert already had
wealth, and could and would give her all the material things she
desired. Time and again she was on the point of yielding, but
something checked her, held her back, as if a voice had whispered
in her ear, and strong arms had seized her. She grew restless,
discontented, melancholy. And suddenly, on a moment's inspiration, the
strangest impulse she had ever known, she had revolted and fled from
the scene of her unhappiness, telling Robert (by letter) only that
she must have time to think, and that for six months he must leave
her to herself. She had fled to Claire, that cousin on her father's
side, who some years before, to the wonder and chagrin of many
Gaylords east and west,--to all except the Viking physician, who
had rejoiced in her spirit,--had eloped with a cowboy, since turned
successful cattleman, whom she had met at the Denver Carnival. Ten
days now had Marion been in Paradise Park, rejoicing in her
freedom, rejoicing in the half-wild life, rejoicing in the tonic
air and the tonic beauty of this Rocky Mountain valley, shut in,
isolated, and so aptly named. And only to-day had there come any
emotions that disturbed her peace.

* * * * *

When she looked up again her eyes were sharply arrested by a scene
that seemed curiously to picture her own mood. Far up at the head
of the valley a cloud that was scarcely heavier than a mist came
stealing out of a gulch to take its shining way along the range of
mountains. Dropping in its flight a shower as light as a bridal veil,
it sped glistening across the face of mountain after mountain,
softening the stark grays and reds, while above it the peaks gleamed
white. On and on it came until at last it arrived at the mouth of a
deep, dark gorge in the side of a mountain that, in its strange and
forbidding aspect, differed notably from all the others in the
majestic range. There it paused as if arrested by some stern command,
hung for a moment in palpable agitation, and was swiftly swallowed
up in the gorge. And again she had a vague and uneasy feeling, as
she had when first she saw it, that Thunder Mountain,--but she could
not fit that feeling into thought, could find no words to frame it.
Yet she was fascinated.

It was half-hidden now in surging, black storm-clouds, while all the
sharp and snow-clad peaks around it glittered in the sun. Even in
those rare moments when