a
rebuff, and suggested small enough thanks. Probably none of the
villagers would have met with similar treatment.

She felt angry. She did not know why, and her words of thanks had no
thanks in their tone.

"Thank you," she said coldly. Then she looked up into the keen face
before her and beheld its easy confident smile. "It was real stupid
of me. But--you see, I didn't guess anybody was there."

"No."

Kate stepped down through the doorway, and stood beside the officer,
whose horse was grazing a few yards away upon a trifling patch of
weedy grass. Her annoyance was passing.

"I'd heard you'd come into Rocky Springs," she said. "Everybody is--is
excited about it."

Inspector Fyles was still smiling as he returned her glance. He was
thinking, at that moment, that the passing of time only added to Kate
Seton's attractiveness. His quick eyes took in the simplicity of her
costume, while he realized its comparative costliness for a village
like Rocky Springs.

"I don't guess there's much to be excited about--yet," he said. "Maybe
that'll come later, for--some of them. I'm going to be around for
quite a while."

Kate was looking ahead down the trail. She was half-heartedly seeking
an excuse for leaving him. Perhaps the man read something of her
thought, for he abruptly nodded in the direction of the village.

"You're going on down?" he inquired casually.

"Yes. I've a church committee to attend. I am rather late."

"Then maybe I may walk with you?"

The man's manner was perfectly deferential, and something about it
pleased his companion more than she would have admitted. Somehow she
resented him and liked him at the same time. She was half afraid of
him, too. But her fear was wholly sub-conscious, and would certainly
have been promptly denied had she been made aware of it.

"Your horse?" she protested. "You--you are riding."

But Fyles only shook his head.

"We needn't bother about him," he declared easily. "You see, he'll
just walk right on."

They moved on toward the mouth of the trail at the edge of the
clearing, and Kate, watching the horse, saw it suddenly throw up its
head and begin to follow in that indifferent manner so truly equine,
picking at the blades of grass as it came.

"What a dear creature," she exclaimed impulsively. "Did--did you train
him that way?"

Fyles smilingly shook his head.

"Taught himself," he said. "Poor Peter's a first-class baby. He hates
to be left alone. Guess if