ore it was fairly light they were on the road, with Jack urging P.D.
forward at a trot. The silence was soft with the shimmer of dawn; all
glistening and still the roofs and trees of Little Rivers took form. The
moist sweetness of its gardens perfumed the fresh morning air in greeting
to the easy traveller, while the makers of gardens were yet asleep.

It was the same hour that Mary had hurried forth after her wakeful night
to stop the duel in the _arroyo_. As Jack approached the Ewold home he
had a glimpse of something white, a woman's gown he thought, that
disappeared behind the vines. He concluded that Mary must have risen
early to watch the sunrise, and drew rein opposite the porch; but through
the lace-work of the vines he saw that it was empty. Yet he was positive
that he had seen her and that she must have seen him coming. She was
missing the very glorious moment which she had risen to see. A rim of
molten gold was showing in the defile and all the summits of the range
were topped with flowing fire.

"Mary!" he called.

There was no answer. Had he been mistaken? Had mental suggestion played
him a trick? Had his eyes personified a wish when they saw a figure on
the steps?

"Mary!" he called again, and his voice was loud enough for her to have
heard if she were awake and near. Still there was no answer.

The pass had now become a flaming vortex which bathed him in its
far-spreading radiance. But he had lost interest in sunrises. A last
backward, hungry glance over his shoulder as he started gave him a
glimpse through the open door of the living-room, and he saw Mary leaning
against the table looking down at her hands, which were half clasped in
her lap, as if she were waiting for him to get out of the way.

Thus he understood that he had ended their comradeship when he had broken
through the barrier on the previous afternoon, and the only thing that
could bring it back was the birth of a feeling in her greater than
comradeship. His shoulders fell together, the reins loosened, while P.D.,
masterless if not riderless, proceeded homeward.

"Hello, Jack!"

It was the greeting of Bob Worther, the inspector of ditches, who was the
only man abroad at that hour. Jack looked up with an effort to be genial
and found Bob closely studying his features in a stare.

"What's the matter, Bob?" he asked. "Has my complexion turned green over
night or my nose slipped around to my ear?"

"I was trying to make out if you do