"Please forgive me, Mr. Givens, won't you? I'm only a girl, you know,
and I was frightened at first. I'm very, very sorry I shot Bill. You
don't know how ashamed I feel. I wouldn't have done it for anything."

Givens took the proffered hand. He held it for a time while he allowed
the generosity of his nature to overcome his grief at the loss of
Bill. At last it was clear that he had forgiven her.

"Please don't speak of it any more, Miss Josefa. 'Twas enough to
frighten any young lady the way Bill looked. I'll explain it all right
to the boys."

"Are you really sure you don't hate me?" Josefa came closer to him
impulsively. Her eyes were sweet--oh, sweet and pleading with gracious
penitence. "I would hate anyone who would kill my kitten. And how
daring and kind of you to risk being shot when you tried to save him!
How very few men would have done that!" Victory wrested from defeat!
Vaudeville turned into drama! Bravo, Ripley Givens!

It was now twilight. Of course Miss Josefa could not be allowed to
ride on to the ranch-house alone. Givens resaddled his pony in spite
of that animal's reproachful glances, and rode with her. Side by side
they galloped across the smooth grass, the princess and the man who
was kind to animals. The prairie odours of fruitful earth and delicate
bloom were thick and sweet around them. Coyotes yelping over there on
the hill! No fear. And yet--

Josefa rode closer. A little hand seemed to grope. Givens found it
with his own. The ponies kept an even gait. The hands lingered