Mrs. McFarlane, looking upon her daughter in amazement, saw on her face the shadow of the deadly rage which had burned in her heart as she clenched young Belden's throat.

"What then? What happened then?"

"He let go, you bet." Her smile came back. "And when he realized what he'd done--_he_ thought Wayland was dead--he began to weaken. Then I took my gun and was all for putting an end to him right there, when I saw Wayland's eyelids move. After that I didn't care what became of Cliff. I told him to ride on and keep a-ridin', and I reckon he's clear out of the state by this time. If he ever shows up I'll put him where he'll have all night to be sorry in."

"When did this take place?"

"Yesterday about two. Of course Wayland couldn't ride, he was so dizzy and kind o' confused, and so I went into camp right there at timber-line.

Along about sunset Nash came riding up from this side, and insisted on staying to help me--so I let him."

Mrs. McFarlane's tense att.i.tude relaxed. "Nash is not the kind that tattles. I'm glad he turned up."

"And this morning I saddled and came down."

"Did Nash go on?"

"Yes, daddy was waiting for him, so I sent him along."

"It's all sad business," groaned Mrs. McFarlane, "and I can see you're keeping something back. How did Cliff happen to know just where you were?

And what started you back without your father?"

For the first time Berrie showed signs of weakness and distress. "Why, you see, Alec Belden and Mr. Moore were over there to look at some timber, and old Marm Belden and that Moore girl went along. I suppose they sent word to Cliff, and I presume that Moore girl put him on our trail. Leastwise that's the way I figure it out. That's the worst of the whole business." She admitted this with darkened brow. "Mrs. Belden's tongue is hung in the middle and loose at both ends--and that Moore girl is spiteful mean." She could not keep the contempt out of her voice. "She saw us start off, and she is sure to follow it up and find out what happened on the way home; even if they don't see Cliff they'll _talk_."

"Oh, I _wish_ you hadn't gone!" exclaimed the worried mother.

"It can't be helped now, and it hasn't done me any real harm. It's all in the day's work, anyhow. I've always gone with daddy before, and this trip isn't going to spoil me. The boys all know me, and they will treat me fair."

"Yes, but Mr. Norcross is an outsider--a city man. They will all think evil of him on that account."

"I know; that's what troubles me. No one will know how fine and considerate he was. Mother, I've never known any one like him. He's a poet! He's taught me to see things I never saw before. Everything interests him--the birds, the clouds, the voices in the fire. I never was so happy in my life as I was during those first two days, and that night in camp before he began to worry--it was just wonderful." Words failed her, but her shining face and the forward straining pose of her body enlightened the mother. "I don't care what people say of me if only they will be just to him. They've _got_ to treat him right," she added, firmly.

"Did he speak to you--are you engaged?"

Her head drooped. "Not really engaged, mother; but he told me how much he liked me--and--it's all right, mother, I _know_ it is. I'm not fine enough for him, but I'm going to try to change my ways so he won't be ashamed of me."

Mrs. McFarlane's face cleared. "He surely is a fine young fellow, and can be trusted to do the right thing. Well, we might as well go to bed. We can't settle anything till your father gets home," she said.

Wayland rose next morning free from dizziness and almost free from pain, and when he came out of his room his expression was cheerful. "I feel as if I'd slept a week, and I'm hungry. I don't know why I should be, but I am."

Mrs. McFarlane met him with something very intimate, something almost maternal in her look; but her words were as few and as restrained as ever. He divined that she had been talking with Berrie, and that a fairly clear understanding of the situation had been reached. That this understanding involved him closely he was aware; but nothing in his manner acknowledged it.

She did not ask any questions, believing that sooner or later the whole story must come out. The fact that Siona Moore and Mrs. Belden knew that Berrie had started back on Thursday with young Norcross made it easy for the villagers to discover that she had not reached the ranch till Sat.u.r.day. "What could Joe have been thinking of to allow them to go?" she said. "Mr. Nash's presence in the camp must be made known; but then there is Clifford's a.s.sault upon Mr. Norcross, can that be kept secret, too?"

And so while the young people chatted, the troubled mother waited in fear, knowing that in a day or two the countryside would be aflame with accusation.

In a landscape like this, as she well knew, nothing moves un.o.bserved. The native--man or woman--is able to perceive and name objects scarcely discernible to the eye of the alien. A minute speck is discovered on the hillside. "h.e.l.lo, there's Jim Sanders on his roan," says one, or "Here comes Kit Jenkins with her flea-bit gray. I wonder who's on the bay alongside of her," remarks another, and each of these observations is taken quite as a matter of course. With a wide and empty field of vision, and with trained, unspoiled optic nerves, the plainsman is marvelously penetrating of glance. Hence, Mrs. McFarlane was perfectly certain that not one but several of her neighbors had seen and recognized Berrie and young Norcross as they came down the hill. In a day or two every man would know just where they camped, and what had taken place in camp. Mrs.

Belden would not rest till she had ferreted out every crook and turn of that trail, and her speech was quite as coa.r.s.e as that of any of her male a.s.sociates.

Easy-going with regard to many things, these citizens were abnormally alive to all matters relating to courtship, and popular as she believed Berrie to be, Mrs. McFarlane could not hope that her daughter would be spared--especially by the Beldens, who would naturally feel that Clifford had been cheated. She sighed deeply. "Well, nothing can be done till Joe returns," she repeated.

A long day's rest, a second night's sleep, set Wayland on his feet. He came to breakfast quite gay. "Barring the hickory-nut on the back of my head," he explained, "I'm feeling fine, almost ready for another expedition. I may make a ranger yet."

Berrie, though equally gay, was not so sure of his ability to return to work. "I reckon you'd better go easy till daddy gets back; but if you feel like it we'll ride up to the post-office this afternoon."

"I want to start right in to learn to throw that hitch, and I'm going to practise with an ax till I can strike twice in the same place. This trip was an eye-opener. Great man I'd be in a windfall--wouldn't I?"

He was persuaded to remain very quiet for another day, and part of it was spent in conversation with Mrs. McFarlane--whom he liked very much--and an hour or more in writing a long letter wherein he announced to his father his intention of going into the Forest Service. "I've got to build up a const.i.tution," he said, "and I don't know of a better place to do it in. Besides, I'm beginning to be interested in the scheme. I like the Supervisor. I'm living in his house at the present time, and I'm feeling contented and happy, so don't worry about me."

He was indeed quite comfortable, save when he realized that Mrs.

McFarlane was taking altogether too much for granted in their relationship. It was delightful to be so watched over, so waited upon, so instructed. "But where is it all leading me?" he continued to ask himself--and still that wall of reserve troubled and saddened Berrie.

They expected McFarlane that night, and waited supper for him, but he did not come, and so they ate without him, and afterward Wayland helped Berrie do up the dishes while the mother bent above her sewing by the kitchen lamp.

There was something very sweet and gentle about Mrs. McFarlane, and the exile took almost as much pleasure in talking with her as with her daughter. He led her to tell of her early experiences in the valley, and of the strange types of men and women with whom she had crossed the range.

"Some of them are here yet," she said. "In fact the most violent of all the opponents to the Service are these old adventurers. I don't think they deserve to be called pioneers. They never did any work in clearing the land or in building homes. Some of them, who own big herds of cattle, still live in dug-outs. They raged at Mr. McFarlane for going into the Service--called him a traitor. Old Jake Proudfoot was especially furious--"

"You should see where old Jake lives," interrupted Berrie. "He sleeps on the floor in one corner of his cabin, and never changes his shirt."

"Hush!" warned Mrs. McFarlane.

"That's what the men all say. Daddy declares if they were to sc.r.a.pe Jake they'd find at least five layers of shirts. His wife left him fifteen years ago, couldn't stand his habits, and he's got worse ever since.

Naturally he is opposed to the Service."

"Of course," her mother explained, "those who oppose the Supervisor aren't all like Jake; but it makes me angry to have the papers all quoting Jake as 'one of the leading ranchers of the valley.'"

She could not bring herself to take up the most vital subject of all--the question of her daughter's future. "I'll wait till father gets home," she decided.

On the fourth morning the 'phone rang, and the squawking voice of Mrs.

Belden came over the wire. "I wanted to know if Berrie and her feller got home all right?"

"Yes, they arrived safely."

The old woman chuckled. "Last I see of Cliff he was hot on their trail--looked like he expected to take a hand in that expedition. Did he overtake 'em?"

"I don't hear very well--where are you?"

"I'm at the Scott ranch--we're coming round 'the horn' to-day."

"Where is the Supervisor?"

"He headed across yesterday. Say, Cliff was mad as a hornet when he started. I'd like to know what happened--"

Mrs. McFarlane hung up the receiver. The old woman's nasty chuckle was intolerable; but in silencing the 'phone Mrs. McFarlane was perfectly aware that she was not silencing the gossip; on the contrary, she was certain that the Beldens would leave a trail of poisonous comment from the Ptarmigan to Bear Tooth. It was all sweet material for them.

Berrie wanted to know who was speaking, and Mrs. McFarlane replied: "Mrs.

Belden wanted to know if you got through all right."

"She said something else, something to heat you up," persisted the girl, who perceived her mother's agitation. "What did she say--something about me--and Cliff?"