"Come on over."

The young man obeyed with alacrity. He sped down the hill, leaped
across the narrow stream, and hurried up the trail. He was panting
heavily when he reached the girl's side, and the perspiration was
streaming down his face. She looked at him curiously, and her eyes
danced with merriment.

"Do you always do that?" she questioned.

"Do what?" Reynolds asked in reply.

"Hustle like that at a woman's call?"

"I never did so before, simply because I never had the chance. This is
a new experience to me."

The girl looked at him steadily for a few seconds. Then she smiled and
held out her hand.

"I wish to thank you for what you have done for me to-day," she naïvely
told him. "I am certain you saved my life. My, that was a great shot
you made!"

Reynolds took her hand in his, and a thrill of joy swept through his
body. It was not a soft hand, but brown and firm as if accustomed to
toil. Her eyes met his and there was something in her look which
aroused the noblest within him. It was an expression of admiration,
almost hero-worship, and confidence. It said to him, "I know I can