I'm sure."

"I thought when you and I ride over to the claim, some day, you ought
to have a horse of your own," he announced in his manner of finality.
"So your horse and outfit are over at Charlie's, at your order."

She looked up at him swiftly. "My horse--over at Charlie's?"

"Yes, Charlie's--the hay-yard. I thought you liked a side-saddle best
and I found a good one in the hay."

"But--I haven't any horse," she protested, failing for a moment to
grasp his meaning. "How could I have a horse in Goldite?"

"You couldn't help having him--that's all--any more than you can help
having me."

The light in his eyes was far too magnetic for her own brown glance to
escape. She hardly knew what she was saying, or what she was thinking.
She was simply aflame with happiness in his presence--and she feared he
must read it in her glance. That the horse was his gift she
comprehended all at once--but--what had he said--what was it he had
said, that she must answer? Her heart and her mind had coalesced.
There was love in both and little of reason in either. She knew he was
holding her eyes to his with the sheer force of overwhelming love.

She tried to escape.

"You--mean-----"

He broke all control like a whirlwind.

"I mean I can't hold it any longer! I love you!--I love you to death!"

He took her in his arms suddenly, passionately, crushing her almost
fiercely against his heart. He kissed her on the lips--once--twice--a
dozen times in half a minute--feeling the warm, moist softness in the
contact and holding her pliant figure yet more closely.

She, too, was mad with it all, for a second. Then she began to battle
with his might.

"Van!--Mr. Van!" she said, pushing his face away with a hand he might
have devoured. "Let me go! Let me go! How dare---- You shan't! You
shan't! Let me go!"

Her nature, in revolt for a moment against her better judgment, refused
to do the bidding of her muscles. Then she gathered strength out of
the whirlwind itself and pushed him away like a tigress.

"You shan't!" she repeated. "You ought to be ashamed! How dare you
treat me----"

He had turned abruptly, looking towards the door. Her utterance was
halted by his movement of listening. She had barely time to take up
her papers, and make an effort at regaining her composure. Bostwick
was coming down the hall. He presently appeared at the door. For a
moment there was silence.

Van was the first to speak.

"H