o her
engagement to Douglass, whose severance he could not possibly have known
except by deduction.

The next afternoon he drove her over to a point where the stage could be
intercepted without going to Tin Cup. She desired to avoid the
possibility of a chance meeting with Constance Brevoort or Douglass,
despite an almost irresistible temptation to see him for the last time.
In ten days more she was aboard an ocean liner, her mother
unquestioningly complying with her request for a continental tour,
wisely leaving the girl to her own time in the matter of explanations.
Besides, she had adroitly drawn out of Robert enough to confirm her
suspicions, and she was unqualifiedly glad to encourage any distractions
for the pale girl whose eyes were heavy with misery. As Grace expressed
no preference she decided on Egypt, and the departure was made without
unnecessary loss of time.

Had Grace gone direct to Tin Cup that day, instead of intercepting the
stage some twenty miles out, or if the driver had been a more loquacious
man than "Timberline," she would have been spared many heartaches at the
price of a sickening terror. For the day before, the man that she loved,
bleeding and senseless, had been carried into the hotel at Tin Cup,
where a white-faced, wild-eyed woman sat by his bedside waiting the
arrival of the doctor, stonily facing a despair too great for words.

With the firm intention of riding out to the C Bar that afternoon to
make a last appeal to Grace for forgiveness and reconciliation, Douglass
had rather reluctantly accompanied Constance for her morning's
constitutional on horseback. Divining his intention in some mysterious
manner known only to the loving jealous, she had determined to frustrate
his purpose by making her ride unusually long, thus keeping him with her
until too late to reach the C Bar that night. She was fighting for time,
and every moment of delay was vital, she having been informed of the
intended departure of Grace within the next few days. If she could
manage to prevent their meeting before that time the chasm between the
two would become permanently unbridgable.

Some ten miles out of town, in a magnificent canyon, reachable only by
a somewhat difficult trail, was an exquisite little spot well known to
both. It was one of their favorite rendezvous in the trout-fishing
season, where they stopped to fry the delicious fish and boil the coffee
indispensable to an _al fresco_ luncheon. Hither,