o
spring a little," he directed, "and grip my shoulders hard. Now, come!"

At last she was safe beside him. In another moment he was up and helped
her to her feet. They stood looking towards the mountain top. The dun
cloud stalking now with trailing skirts in the direction of the
snow-peaks, hurled back a parting threat. "It was the pine tree," she
exclaimed. "It was struck. And, see! It has carried down most of that
chimney. Our staircase is completely wrecked."

Tisdale was silent. Her glance came back to him. A sudden emotion stirred
her face. Then all the conservatism dropped from her like a discarded
cloak, and he felt her intrepid spirit respond to his own. Now she
understood that moment in the basin; she knew it had been supreme; she was
great enough to see there was nothing to forgive. "You were right," she
said, and her voice broke in those steadying pauses that carried more
expression than any words. "Fate was with us again. But I owe--my life--to
you."

"Sometime," he answered slowly, smiling a little, "not now, not here, I am
going to hold you to the debt. And when I do, you are going to pay me--in
full."

The beautiful color, that was like the pink of coral, flamed and went in
her face. "We must hurry back to the team," she said and turned to finish
the descent to the bench. "Horses are always so nervous in an electrical
storm." Then suddenly, as Tisdale pushed by to help her in a difficult
place, she stopped. "How strange!" she exclaimed. "That terrible curtain
has lifted from the desert. It threatened a deluge any minute, and now it
is moving off without a drop of rain."

"That's so," he replied. "A cross current of wind has turned it up the
Columbia. But the rain is there; it is streaming along those Chelan
summits in a downpour."

"And look!" she cried, after a moment. "A double rainbow! See how it spans
the Wenatchee! It's a promise." And the turquoise lights shone once more
in her eyes. "Here in this desert, at last, I may come to my 'pot of
gold.'"

"You mean," responded Tisdale, "now you have seen the spring, Weatherbee's
project seems possible to you. Well, I have reconsidered, too. I shall not
outbid you. That would favor Mrs. Weatherbee too much. And my interests
are going to keep me in Alaska indefinitely. I should be obliged to leave
the plans in the hands of a manager, and I had rather trust them to you."

Miss Armitage did not answer directly. She was watching the arch, painted
high