tainty that he has
never made a cent out of his alleged prospecting. It is true he rides
the round-up for a couple of months in the spring and fall, but four
months' work at forty dollars a month will hardly suffice for a man's
yearly needs." He unconsciously lowered his voice, and continued:
"Several ranchers have complained of losing horses and only a few days
ago, up near the line, my good friend Corporal Downey, of the Mounted,
told me that a number of American horses, with brands skillfully
doctored, had been regularly making their appearance in Canada. It is
an ugly suspicion, and I am making no open accusation, but--one may
wonder."

The man finished his sandwich, dipped his fingers into the creek, wiped
them upon his handkerchief, and proceeded to roll a cigarette. "Speaking of
Vil Holland, why did you ask whether he had--imagination?"

"Oh, I don't know," replied the girl, lightly. "I just wondered."

Bethune regarded her steadily. "Has he been,--er, interfering in any
way with your attempt to locate your father's strike?"

"Hardly interfering, I should say."

"You believe he still follows you?"

"Yes."

"You do not fear him?"

"No."

"That is because you do not know him! I tell you he is a dangerous
man!" Bethune puffed shortly at his cigarette, hurled it from him, and
faced the girl with glowing eyes: "Ah, Miss Sinclair, why don't you
end this uncertainty? Why do you continue every day to jeopardize your
interests--yes, your very life----?"

"Do you mean," interrupted the girl, "why don't I form a partnership
with you?"

"A partnership! Ah, no, not a--and, yet--yes, a partnership. A
partnership of life, and love, and happiness!" The man moved close,
and the black eyes seemed, in the intensity of their gaze to devour
her very soul. "There I have said it--the thing I have been wanting to
say, yet have feared to say." Patty's lips moved, as if to speak, but
the man forestalled the words with a gesture. "Before you answer, let
me tell you how, since you first came into the hills, I have lived in
the shadow of a mighty fear--I, who have lived my life among men, and
have never known the meaning of fear, have been harassed by a
multitude of fears. From the moment of our first meeting I have loved
you. And, by all the saints, I swear you are the only woman I have
ever loved! And, yet, I feared to tell you of that love. Twice the
words have trembled on my tongue, and remained unspoken, because I
feared