her eyes, to find when she opened them again that the glaring
white sky had changed to a steel-blue. The sun had sunk behind
the foothills and the air was growing chilly. Stillwell had
returned to the driving-seat and was chuckling to the horses.
Shadows crept up out of the hollows.

"Wal, Flo," said Stillwell, "I reckon we'd better hev the rest of
thet there lunch before dark."

"You didn't leave much of it," laughed Florence, as she produced
the basket from under the seat.

While they ate, the short twilight shaded and gloom filled the
hollows. Madeline saw the first star, a faint, winking point of
light. The sky had now changed to a hazy gray. Madeline saw it
gradually clear and darken, to show other faint stars. After
that there was perceptible deepening of the gray and an enlarging
of the stars and a brightening of new-born ones. Night seemed to
come on the cold wind. Madeline was glad to have the robes close
around her and to lean against Florence. The hollows were now
black, but the tops of the foothills gleamed pale in a soft
light. The steady tramp of the horses went on, and the creak of
wheels and crunching of gravel. Madeline grew so sleepy that she
could not keep her weary eyelids from falling. There were
drowsier spells in which she lost a feeling of where she was, and
these were disturbed by the jolt of wheels over a rough place.
Then came a blank interval, short or long, which ended in a more
violent lurch of the buckboard. Madeline awoke to find her head
on Florence's shoulder. She sat up laughing and apologizing for
her laziness. Florence assured her they would soon reach the