added: "I
came out to lose myself in nature. I had come to hate men and to despise
women. I was sick of my kind. I wanted to live like a savage, a part of
the wild, and so--forget."

"Animals sometimes live alone; savages never do," he corrected, "unless
they are outlawed from their tribe."

"That's what I tried to do--outlaw myself from my tribe. I wanted to get
away from foolish comment, from malicious gossip."

"Are you ready to go back to it now--I mean to the city?"

"No, not quite; and yet this week's experience has shaken me and helped
me. You have helped me, and I want to thank you for it. I begin to
believe once more in good, brave, simple manhood. You and daddy have
revived my faith in men."

"Some man must have hurt you mighty bad," he said, simply. Then added:
"I can't understand that. I don't see how any man could do anything but
just naturally _worship_ you."

She was moved by the sincerity of his adoration, but she led him no
farther in that direction. "At first I thought I had won a kind of
peace. I was almost content in a benumbed way. Then came my arrest--and
you. It was a rough awakening, but I begin to see that I still live,
that I am young, that I can become breathless with excitement. This
raid, this ride, has swept away all that deathlike numbness which had
fallen upon me. I've had my lesson. Now I can go back. I must get away
from here."

Under the spell of her intense utterance the ranger's mind worked
rapidly, filling in the pauses. "Yes, you'd better go away, but I'm not
going to let you pass out of my life--not if I can help it! I'm going to
resign and go where you go--"

She laid a protesting hand upon his arm. "No, no!" she said. "Don't do
that. Don't resign. Don't change your plans on my account. I'm not worth
such a sacrifice, such risk."

"You're worth any risk," he stoutly retorted, with some part of her own
intensity in his voice. "I can't think of letting you go. I need you in
my business." He smiled wanly. "I'm only a forest ranger at ninety
dollars per month, but I'm going to be something else one of these days.
I won't mind a long, rough trail if I can be sure of finding you at the
end of it."

The far-away whistle of the train spurred him into fierce demand.
"You'll let me write to you, and you will reply once in a while, won't
you? It will give me something to look forward to. You owe me that
much!" he added.

"Yes, I will write," she promised. "But I think it bet