"They're dead," said the girl with great tears in her eyes.

"Dearie me! And you so young! Say, dearie, s'pose you stay here with me.
I'm lonesome, an' there's no women near by here. You could help me and be
comp'ny. The men would like to have a girl round. There's plenty likely
men on this ranch could make a good home fer a girl sometime. Stay here
with me, dearie."

Had this refuge been offered the girl during her first flight in the
wilderness, with what joy and thankfulness she would have accepted! Now it
suddenly seemed a great impossibility for her to stay. She must go on. She
had a pleasant ride before her, and delightful companionship; and she was
going to school. The world was wide, and she had entered it. She had no
mind to pause thus on the threshold, and never see further than Montana.
Moreover, the closing words of the woman did not please her.

"I cannot stay," she said decidedly. "I'm going to school. And I do not
want a man. I have just run away from a man, a dreadful one. I am going to
school in the East. I have some relations there, and perhaps I can find
them."

"You don't say so!" said the woman, looking disappointed. She had taken a
great fancy to the sweet young face. "Well, dearie, why not stay here a
little while, and write to your folks, and then go on with some one who is
going your way? I don't like to see you go off with that man. It ain't the
proper thing. He knows it himself. I'm afraid he's deceivin' you. I can
see by his clo'es he's one of the fine young fellows that does as they
please. He won't think any good of you if you keep travellin' 'lone with
him. It's all well 'nough when you get lost, an' he was nice to help you
out and save you from snakes; but he knows he ain't no business travellin'