under the disfiguring headgear, that here was a breaking
heart laid open for all eyes. The very droop and tremble of the lips
were proof.

"Mrs. Courtrey?" he asked gently.

At the words, the smile, the unusual courtesy of the removed hat,
Ellen rose from her chair, a tall, slim wisp of a woman, whose
blue-veined hands were almost transparent.

"Yes," she said, and waited.

That little waiting, calm, unruffled, made him think sharply of
Tharon Last who had waited also for his accounting for himself.

"I am Kenset," he said, "of over in the foothills. Is your husband at
home?"

"No," said Ellen, "he's gone in t' Corvan."

There was a world of meaning in the inflection.

"Yes? Now that's too bad. It's taken me a long time to come and I
particularly wished to see him. Do you mind if I wait?"

"Why, no," said Ellen a bit reluctantly, "no, sir, I guess not."

Kenset swung off the brown horse and dropped the rein.

"Tired, Captain?" he asked whimsically, rubbing the sweaty mane, while
the animal drew a long whistling breath and in turn rubbed the sticky
brow band on its forehead on Kenset's arm.

"Looks like he's thirsty," said Ellen presently. "There's a trough
round yonder at th' back," and she waved a long hand.

Kenset led Captain around back where a living spring sang and gurgled
into a section of tree, deeply hollowed and covered with moss.

When he came back to the shade the woman had brought from some near
place a second chair, and he dropped gratefully into it, weary from
his long ride.

He laid his hat on the earth beside him and smoothed the sleek, dark
hair back from his forehead.

Ellen sat still and watched him with a steady gaze.

She was finding him strange. She looked at his olive drab garments, at
the trim leather leggings that encased his lower limbs, at his smooth
hands, at his face, and lastly at the dark shield on his breast.

"Law?" she asked succinctly.

"Well," smiled Kenset, "after a fashion."

She moved uneasily in her chair, and the man had a sudden feeling of
pity for her.

"Not as you mean, Mrs. Courtrey," he hastened. "I am in the United
States Forest Service, if you know what that is."

"No," said Ellen, "I don't know."

"It is simply a service for the conservation of the timber of this
country," he explained gently, but he saw that he was not making it
clear.

"The saving of the trees," he went on, "the care of the forests."

"Oh," she said, relieved.

"We lo