The White Desert

e woman in the buggy was holding forth her h

g manner, "aren't you glad to see me,

s arms. "I-I was so surprised,

again. "That's why I sent for her. Tho

had turned upon him coldly-"to know that fro

is arm. "Don't talk like that. Y

se, A

t's the way he wants

aven't had time to think. You've jumped at c

every minute what I've been doing. This man's crooked, and I know he's crooked. I needed time, and I shammed forgetfulness.

e habit of tak

toward a cant hook near by. But suddenly he ceased.

roke' arm," had come ver

he thinks he can insult

m, as a Newfoundland would l

uston insu

ut

the big man r

lt nobody. Un'stan'? Ba'teese say

has he to talk this way? The whole thing's silly, as far as I can see, Bar

nes Jierdon, "is the best friend I ever had. You'll realize it before long. He not only has sav

flashed over

now, Barry.

d while Ba'tiste, knit cap suddenly pulled from straggly gray hair, bent low in acknowle

nderst

d enough for your father, but yo

t go int

g about it that

andaged arm to ache for freedom and strength

etort and forced him

it take you to

anted. Needn't think I'll hang around begging you f

particular. I asked you

impatient about it. But

else connected with you. So yo

, with a sudden impulse, he turned away toward the mill. A moment later the whistle blew and the sa

oned. "I don't want to go back to town. And I can't st

in one of the cottages and stay there with

you, and now I'm going to stay until I'm sure that everything's all right. Besides, Barry," she moved close to him, "you'll ne

d always been near in time of troub

ade comfortable in the cottage." Then, as he started

oving toward his wagon and th

r of Ba'tiste's cabin, the wolf-dog, who had picked him up a hundred yards away, trotting beside him. There was a light within; in the shadows by the grave, a form move

hat it was something too horrible for me to know. And I simply can'

ut

that enough? We're not old friends; we're hardly even acquaintances. And if there is so

e cabin, to return Medaine Robinette's cool but polite greeting in kind, and to

bout you, oui, yes!"

s. The girl colored, the

r than I intended," she apolo

at Ba'tiste, but the old French-

et is nothing. Eet will pass. Now," as though the

me. I'm going to Denver on the morning train to hire a new crew

hall be. You w

mind? It's nea

ched at the door. "Come, we shall go t

or you to start to-n

the Canadian quietly. "To-night, you shall

fortable red cushions of the smoking car as the puffing train pulled its weary, way through the snowsheds of Crestline Mountain, on the way over the range. Evening brought him to Denver, and the three days

the future. They were the housing place of the wide spaces where the streams ran through green valleys, where the sagebrush dotted the plateau plains, and where the world was a thing with a rim about it; hills soft blue and brown and gra

of her with a

he sat once more in the red-plush smoking car, surrounded by heavy-shouldered, sodden-faced men, his new crew, en route to Empire Lake. It was best. There was Agnes, with her debt of gratitude to be paid and with her affection for him, which in its blindness could not discern the fact that it was rep

fed and clattered through the snowsheds, then clambered down the mountain side to Tabernacle. With his dough-

d tumbling through the underbrush at one side of the road, a dog bounding beside him. It was Ba't

e fail! Ba'teese no good! He watch for you-he

or lack of breath, his big hands seeking to fill in the spaces where words

happened

a'teese think about his lost trap. He think mebbe there is one place where he have not look'. He say to Golemar he will

fault. Don't feel that way about i

The m

ey'

oo

d Barry Houston to leap to his feet unmindful of the jolting wagon, to sta

red timbers and twisted machinery. The re