repaying me," she said shyly, her dark face
coloring. It was the first time during the interview that she had
shown a trace of embarrassment.

"Come," she said, meeting his look again, her hand on the door; "it's
getting late. You must not venture out."

A moment longer the man hesitated, then obeyed. Not until he was
very near, so near that he could touch her, did a vestige of his
former manhood appear. He paused, and their eyes were locked in a
soul-searching look. Then all at once his arm was round her waist, his
face beside her face.

"Mollie, girl, won't you--just once?"

"No, no--not that! Don't ask it." Passionately the brown hands flew
to the brown cheeks, covering them protectingly. But at once came
thought, the spirit of sacrifice, and contrition for the involuntary
repulse.

"Forgive me, Steve; I'm unaccountable to-night." Her voice, her manner
were constrained, subdued. She accepted his injured look without
comment, without further defence. She saw the perplexed look on his
thin face; then she reached forward--up--and her two soft hands
brought his face down to the level of her own.

Deliberately, voluntarily, she kissed him fair upon the lips.

II

The sun was just peering over the rim of the prairie, when Mrs. Warren
turned in from the dusty road, picked her way among the browning weeds
to the plain, unpainted, shanty-like structure which marked the
presence of a homesteader. Except to the east, where stood the tents
and shacks of the new railroad's construction gang, not another human
habitation broke the dull, monotonous rolling sea of prairie.

Mrs. Warren pounded vigorously upon the rough boards of the door.

A full half-minute she waited; then she glared petulantly at the
unresponsive barrier, and pounded upon it again.

Ordinarily she would have waited patiently, for the multitude of
duties of one day often found Mrs. Babcock still weary with the
dawning of the next--especially since Steve had allied himself with
Jack Warren's engineering corps.

Funds had run low, and the two valetudinarians had reached the stage
of desperation where they were driven to acknowledge failure, when
Jack Warren happened along, in the van of the new railroad.

The work of home-building, from the raw material, had been too much
for Steve's enfeebled physique; so it happened that Mollie performed
most of his share, as well as all of her own. Yet Steve toiled to the
limit of his endurance, and each day