Hamar must have been a fool not to have given an alarm to your
friends at once if he could do nothing himself," said Brownleigh
sternly. "I cannot understand how it could happen that no one found you
sooner. It was the merest chance that I came upon your whip and other
little things and so grew anxious lest some one was lost. It is very
strange that no one found you before this. Your father will have been
very anxious."

Hazel sat up with flaming cheeks and began to gather her hair in a knot.
A sudden realization of her position had come upon her and given her
strength.

"Well, you see," she stumbled, trying to explain without telling
anything, "Mr. Hamar might have thought I had gone back to the car, or
he might have thought I would turn back in a few minutes. I do not think
he would have wanted to follow me just then. I was--angry with him!"

The young missionary looked at the beautiful girl sitting upright on the
canvas he had spread for her bed, trying vainly to reduce her bright
hair to something like order, her cheeks glowing, her eyes shining now,
half with anger, half with embarrassment, and for a second he pitied the
one who had incurred her wrath. A strange unreasoning anger towards the
unknown man took possession of him, and his face grew tender as he
watched the girl.

"That was no excuse for letting you go alone into the perils of the
desert," he said severely. "He could not have known. It was impossible
that he could have understood or he would have risked his life to save
you from what you have been through. No man could do otherwise!"

Hazel looked up, surprised at the vehemence of the words, and again the
contrast between the two men struck her forcibly.

"I am afraid," she murmured looking off towards the distant mountains
thoughtfully, "that he isn't much of a man."

And somehow the young missionary was relieved to hear her say so. There
was a moment's embarrassed silence and then Brownleigh began to search
in his pocket, as he saw the golden coil of hair beginning to slip loose
from its knot again.

"Will these help you any?" he asked handing out the comb and hairpins he
had found, a sudden awkwardness coming upon him.

"Oh, my own comb!" she exclaimed. "And hairpins! Where did you find
them? Indeed they will help," and she seized upon them eagerly.

He turned away embarrassed, marvelling at the touch of her fingers as
she took the bits of shell from his hand. No woman's hand like that had