She was standing now, having smoothed out the rumpled riding habit, and looked fresh and lovely in spite of the limited grooming conveniences.

He caught his breath. The two regarded one another intensely for an instant, each aware of the other’s personality, as men and women sometimes get a glimpse beyond a mere body into the soul. Each was aware of a thrilling pleasure in the other’s presence. It was something new and wonderful that couldn’t be expressed or even shaped into thoughts as yet, but something nonetheless real that flashed along their consciousness like the song of the native bird, the scent of the violet, the breath of the morning.

The instant of soul recognition passed, and both recovered their composure. Then the woman spoke.

“I feel much more respectable,” she laughed pleasantly. “Where is my vicious little horse? Isn’t it time we were getting back?”

Anxiety clouded the man’s face.

“That’s what I was coming to tell you. That beast has eaten off his hobble and fled. There’s no sight of him at all. He must have cleared out while we were eating dinner. He was munching grass peaceably enough before you woke up. It was careless of me not to make him more secure. The hobble was old and worn, but the best I had. I came to tell you I must go after him right away. You won’t be afraid to stay alone for a little while, will you? My horse has rested so I think I can catch him.”

Chapter 5

The Trail

The horror in the girl’s eyes stopped him. She glanced quickly around, and then her eyes sought him. The terror of the night alone in the wilderness returned to her. She heard the coyotes howling again and saw the long, dark shadows in the canyon. She was white to the lips with the thought of it.

“Oh, please don’t leave me alone!” she said. “I don’t think I could stand it. The wild animals”—she glanced furtively behind her as if even now one were tracking her—“it was awful—awful! Their howls! And it’s so alone here! I never was alone before!”

Something in her appealing helplessness gave him a wild desire to stoop and fold her in his arms and tell her he’d never leave her while she wanted him. The color came and went in his fine bronzed face, and his eyes grew tender.

“I won’t leave you,” he said gently, “not if you feel that way, though there’s really no danger here in the daytime. The wild creatures are shy and only show themselves at night. But if I don’t find your horse, how will you get back to your friends soon? You’ve come a long distance, and you couldn’t ride alone.”

Her face grew troubled.

“Couldn’t I walk?” she suggested. “I’m a good walker. I’ve walked five miles at once many times.”

“We’re at least forty miles from the railroad,” he smiled back at her, “and the road is rough, over a mountain by the nearest way. Your horse must have been determined, indeed, to take you so far in one day. He must be a new purchase of Shag’s and bent on returning to his native heath. Horses do that sometimes. It’s their instinct. I’ll tell you what I’ll do.