thing; she put her arm about the boy's neck and kissed him, and Dick's
face flamed red, and a delicious confusion possessed him. If he were her
worshipper before he was her slave now--her unquestioning, faithful
slave.

'You know,' she said, 'I must be your friend, because if it had not been
for you my father might have died out there.'

Dick had recalled the incident several times lately, but always, it must
be regretfully admitted, with a pang of angry compunction. There were
occasions when he felt that it would have been wise to have left the
superintendent to his fate. He wondered now, casually, why the daughter
should entertain sentiments of gratitude that never seemed to find a
place in the arid bosom of her sire.

'Oh, that ain't nothin',' he said awkwardly, digging his heel into the
turf, all aglow with novel emotions. Never had he felt quite so grand
before.

'Dick, will you take a message from me to--to--' The young woman was
toying with his sleeve, her cheeks were ruddy, and the girlish timidity
she displayed was in quaint contrast with her fine face and commanding
figure.

'To Harry Hardy?' said Dick, with ready conjecture.

'Yes,' said Chris. 'However could you have guessed that? Tell him I am
very thankful to him--'

'Fer clearin' out Sunday. Yes, I'll tell him. I say, Miss Chris, do you