good-bye, Tharon, dear," he said softly.

For answer the mistress of Last's once again reached out her arms and
drew his head to her heart--once more pressed her lips upon his own.

"Oh, Billy," she said with a sound of tears in her voice, "Kenset's
th' one man--that's true, an' I'm helpless before th' fact--but
there'll never be another can take your place in my heart--there'll
never be no one to ride with me in th' Big Shadow in just th' same
way, Billy--to hold my hand as we come home to Last's with that same
sweet, honest friendship, that don't need words! I've got my
life-love, but I've lost my life-friend--an' my heart's sore--sore
with pain!"

The rider lifted his face and it was glorified in the first rays of
the sun that was rising over the eastern mountains. His gayly studded
belt and riding cuffs, his spurs and the vanity of silver on his wide
hat caught the glow and sparkled brightly. Joy became paramount over
sadness.

"Don't you fret, Tharon," he said, still in that soft voice, "I'm
always at your shoulder in spirit--in body, too, if you ever want me
or need me. So long."

And he kissed both the hands he held, dropped them, turned and mounted
Golden, waved a hand to all the Holding, and putting the horse to a
run, went down the sounding-board as if he dared not look back.

Until horse and rider were a tiny speck on the living green--until
they passed the Silver Hollow and the mouth of Black Coulee, Tharon
Last stood in the western door and watched them with dim blue eyes.

Ail the wide expanse of Lost Valley was still and sweet with dawn,
smiling as if with a new and wondrous peace, the Vestal's Veil
shimmered on the Rockface, the distant peaks above the Canon Country
cut the skies.

She scanned the little world about and felt this peace press down upon
her soul--as if the questions all were answered, the duty done.

Never in all her life before had Last's Holding seemed to her so
secure and settled, so sweet and to be desired....

Within it lay her destiny--the man in the cool south room.

Without in the great Valley lay a future.

Love was with her--friendship would be with her always in memory, one
glowing with its vital presence, the other softened and doubly sweet
with the sorrow of absence.

She raised her hand and made the sign of the Cross between herself and
that disappearing speck, then she turned and followed old Anita
carrying gruels to that dim south room.

THE END