ot for good?" she said.

"Well--that's beyond me. All I know is I hit the longest and wildest
trail I ever entered. Where it comes out at I don't know. But I shan't
forget you; you've been a good friend to me."

Her voice faltered a little as she said: "I wish you'd write to me and
let me know how you are?"

"Oh, don't expect that of me. I chew my tongue like a ten-year-old kid
when I write. I never was any good at it, and I'm clear out of it now.
The chances are I'll round up in the mountains again; I can't see how
I'd make a living anywhere else. If I come back this way I'll let you
know."

Neither of them was eating now, and the tension was great. She knew that
no artifice could keep him, and he was aware of her emotion and was
eager to escape.

He pushed back his chair at last, and she arose and came toward him and
took his hand, standing so close to him that her bosom almost touched
his shoulder.

"I hate to see you go!" she said, and the passionate tremor in her voice
moved him very deeply. "You've brought back my interest in simple
things--and life seems worth while when I'm with you."

He shook her hand and then dropped it. "Well, so long."

"So long!" she said, and added, with another attempt at brightness, "and
don't stay away too long, and don't fail to let me know when you make
the circuit."

As he mounted his horse he remembered that there was another good-by to
speak, and that was to Cora.

"I wish these women would let a man go without saying good-by at all,"
he thought in irritation, but the patter of Kintuck's feet set his
thought in other directions. As he topped the divide, he drew rein and
looked at the great range to the southeast, lit by the dull red light of
the sun, which had long since set to the settlers in the valley. His
heart was for a moment divided. The joys of the trail--the care-free
life--perhaps after all the family life was not for him. Perhaps he was
chasing a mirage. He was on the divide of his life. On one side were the
mountains, the camps, the cattle, the wild animals--on the other the
plains, the cities, and Mary.

The thought of Mary went deep. It took hold of the foundations of his
thinking and decided him. Shuddering with the pain and despair of his
love he lifted rein and rode down into the deep shadow of the long canon
through which roared the swift waters of the North Fork on their long
journey to the east and south. Thereafter he had no uncertainties. Like