"Of course! Cheer up! Cheer up! Chirrup! He's our Master
Forester--caches the best seed cones for us to steal."

But when he turned back, she had freed her hands, and slipped to the
other side of the slab seat; and Wayland--inconsistent fellow--went all
abash when they had both got hold of themselves and were once more back
to life with feet on solid earth.

"And is it straddle or--fight?"

She had put on her panama sunshade and was looking straight and
steadily in his eyes. The Ranger met the look, the eager look slowly
and deliberately giving place to determined masterdom.

"If that is a challenge, I'll take it!" Then he added; and his face
went hot as her own: "As to the freebooters of the Western Wilderness
ripping the bowels out of public property out here, I'll accept that
challenge, too! We'll put up a bluff of a fight, anyway!"

"I didn't mean that, Dick." She was looking over the edge of the
Ridge. "I couldn't give a precious gift conditionally if I wanted to,
Dick. It would surely give itself before I could stop it. Isn't that
always the way? I wanted you to feel I would be with you in the fight
if I could. They are late. Father and the missionary, Mr. Williams,
and his boy were to have been here an hour ago. I heard them talking
of your struggle against the big steals, and came up here before them
to wait. They are coming to see about changing the sheep from the Holy
Cross Range to the Rim Rocks."

"I can hear 'em coming," Wayland leaned over the precipice. "They are