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Their wills met in their eyes, and the man's, masculine and

dominant, won the battle. The long fringe of hers fell to the

soft cheeks.

"It won't be at all necessary," she promised.

"Are you sure?"

"Quite sure."

"That's the way to talk."

"If you care to know," she boiled over, "I think you the most

hateful man I ever met."

"That's all right," he grinned ruefully. "You're the most

contrary woman I ever bumped into, so I reckon honors are easy."

He strode along beside the horse, mile after mile, in a silence

which neither of them cared to break. The sap of youth flowed

free in him, was in his elastic tread, in the set of his broad

shoulders, in the carriage of his small, well-shaped head. He was

as lean-loined and lithe as a panther, and his stride ate up the

miles as easily.

They nooned at a spring in the dry wash of Bronco Creek. After he

had unsaddled and picketed he condescended to explain to her.

"We'll stay here three hours or mebbe four through the heat of

the day."