ing smile, but there was none. Instead, the girl's
dark eyes grew wide and purple with fear. He was the same one, then, that
she had seen in the afternoon, the voice who had cried to her; and he had
been pursuing her. He was an enemy, perhaps, sent by the man from whom she
fled. She grasped her pistol with trembling fingers, and tried to think
what to say or do.

The young man wondered at the formalities of the plains. Were all these
Western maidens so reticent?

"Why did you follow me? Who did you think I was?" she asked breathlessly
at last.

"Well, I thought you were a man," he said; "at least, you appeared to be a
human being, and not a wild animal. I hadn't seen anything but wild
animals for six hours, and very few of those; so I followed you."

The girl was silent. She was not reassured. It did not seem to her that
her question was directly answered. The young man was playing with her.

"What right had you to follow me?" she demanded fiercely.

"Well, now that you put it in that light, I'm not sure that I had any
right at all, unless it may be the claim that every human being has upon
all creation."

His arms were folded now across his broad brown flannel chest, and the
pistols gleamed in his belt below like fine ornaments. He wore a
philosophical expression, and looked at his companion as if she were a new
specimen of the human kind, and he was studying her variety, quite
impersonally, it is true, but interestedly. There was something in his
look that angered the girl.

"What do you want?" She had never heard of the divine claims of all the
human family. Her one instinct at present was fear.

An expression that was almost bitter flitted over the young man's face, as
of an unpleasant memory forgotten for the instant.

"It really wasn't of much consequence when you think of it," he said with
a shrug of his fine shoulders. "I was merely lost, and was wanting to
inquire where I was--and possibly the way to somewhere. But I don't know
as 'twas worth the trouble."

The girl was puzzled. She had never seen a man like this before. He was
not like her wild, reckless brother, nor any of his associates.

"This is Montana," she said, "or was, when I started," she added with
sudden thought.

"Yes? Well, it was Montana when I started, too; but it's as likely to be
the Desert of Sahara as anything else. I'm sure I've come far enough, and
found it barren enough."

"I never heard of that place," said the girl ser