upon one of these hot days, long past the noon hour, that
Patty dismounted in a narrow valley near the head of a cold mountain
stream and, affixing the hobbles to her horse's legs, threw off the
saddle and bridle, and spread the sweat-dampened blanket to dry in the
sun. Freed of his accouterments, the horse shook himself, shuffled to
the stream, and burying his muzzle to the eyes, sucked up great gulps
of the cold water, and playfully thrashing his head, sent volleys of
silver drops flying from side to side, as he churned the tiny pool
into a veritable mud wallow. Tiring of that, he rolled luxuriously,
the crisping buffalo grass scratching the irking saddle-feel from his
back and sides: and as the girl spread her luncheon upon a clean white
napkin in the shade of a stunted cottonwood, fell to grazing
contentedly.

As Patty chipped at the shell of a hard-boiled egg she glanced toward
the horse, which had stopped grazing and stood facing down stream with
ears nervously alert. A few moments later the soft rattle of
bit-chains and the low shuffling of hoofs told her that a rider was
approaching at a walk. "Probably my guardian devil, ostensibly paying
strict attention to his own business of prospecting, or trying to
strike the trail of the horse-thieves, but in reality hot on the trail
of little me. I just wish I could find the mine. He'll have to stop
and drive his stakes and fix his notice, and if his old buckskin is as
good as he thinks he is, he'll just about overtake me at Thompson's.
And then on a fresh horse--I just want one good look into his face
when I pass him, that's all!"

The horseman came suddenly into view a few yards distant, and the girl
looked up into the black eyes of Monk Bethune.

"Well, well, my dear Miss Sinclair!" The quarter-breed's tone was one
of glad surprise, as he dismounted and advanced, hat in hand. "This is
indeed an unexpected pleasure. La, la, la, the luck of it! Shall we
say, the romance? Hot and saddle-weary from a long ride, to come
suddenly upon the fairest of ladies, at luncheon alone in the most
charming of little valleys. It is a situation to be dreamed of. And,
am I not to be asked to share your repast?"

Patty laughed. The light whimsicality of the man's mood amused her:
"Yes, you may consider yourself invited."

"And be assured that I accept, that is, upon condition that I be
allowed to contribute my just share toward the feast." As he talked,
Bethune fumbled at his pack-