ed the heavy artillery of a proposal of
marriage. No wonder that she was rejoiced beyond words to meet this
frank friendliness in Ben Connor. And what a joy to be able to speak
back freely, without putting a guard over eyes and voice!

"Things have gone on just the same--but I've missed you a lot!"

"That's good to hear."

"You see," she explained, "I've been living in Lukin with just half a
mind--the rest of it has been living off the wire. And you're about the
only interesting thing that's come to me except in the Morse."

And what a happiness to see that there was no stiffening of his glance
as he tried to read some profound meaning into her words! He accepted
them as they were, with a good-natured laughter that warmed her heart.

"Sit down over here," he went on, spreading a blanket over a chairlike
arrangement of two boulders. "You look tired out."

She accepted with a smile, and letting her head go back against the
upper edge of the blanket she closed her eyes for a moment and permitted
her mind to drift into utter relaxation.

"I _am_ tired," she whispered. It was inexpressibly pleasant to lie
there with the sense of being guarded by this man. "They never guess how
tired I get--never--never! I feel--I feel--as if I were living under the
whip all the time."

"Steady up, partner." He had picked up that word in the mountains, and
he liked it. "Steady, partner. Everybody has to let himself go. You tell
me what's wrong. I may not be able to fix anything, but it always helps
to let off steam."

She heard him sit down beside her, and for an instant, though her eyes
were still closed, she stiffened a little, fearful that he would touch
her hand, attempt a caress. Any other man in Lukin would have become
familiar long ago. But Connor did not attempt to approach her.

"Turn and turn about," he was saying smoothly. "When I went into your
telegraph office the other night my nerves were in a knot. Tell you
straight I never knew I _had_ real nerves before. I went in ready to
curse like a drunk. When I saw you, it straightened me out. By the Lord,
it was like a cool wind in my face. You were so steady, Ruth; straight
eyes; and it ironed out the wrinkles to hear your voice. I blurted out a
lot of stuff. But when I remembered it later on I wasn't ashamed. I knew
you'd understand. Besides, I knew that what I'd said would stop with
you. Just about one girl in a million who can keep her mouth shut--and
each one of 'em is