"The sign!" explained Ainsley. "The sign you were to send me to tell
me"--he bent over her hands and added gently--"that you cared for me."

"Oh, I remember," laughed Polly Kirkland. "I was to send you a sign,
wasn't I? You were to 'read it in your heart'," she quoted.

"And I did," returned Ainsley complacently. "There were several false
alarms, and I'd almost lost hope, but when the messengers came I knew
them."

With puzzled eyes the girl frowned and raised her head.

"Messengers?" she repeated. "I sent no message. Of course," she went
on, "when I said you would 'read it in your heart' I meant that if you
REALLY loved me you would not wait for a sign, but you would just COME!"
She sighed proudly and contentedly. "And you came. You understood that,
didn't you?" she asked anxiously.

For an instant Ainsley stared blankly, and then to hide his guilty
countenance drew her toward him and kissed her.

"Of course," he stammered--"of course I understood. That was why I came.
I just couldn't stand it any longer."

Breathing heavily at the thought of the blunder he had so narrowly
avoided, Ainsley turned his head toward the great red disk that was
disappearing into the sands of the desert. He was so long silent that
the girl lifted her eyes, and found that already he had forgotten
her presence and, transfixed, was staring at the sky. On his face
was bewilderment and wonder and a touch of awe. The girl followed the