Wilfred rose hastily. "I should like dearly to come, and come
often," he exclaimed, "but I couldn't force myself where I'm not
wanted."

"In that case," remarked Bill inflexibly, "you're seeing me for the
last time, and may look your fill!"

Wilfred smiled at him tolerantly and turned to Willock. "I ought
to go to my work, Brick. I won't try to explain what this hour has
meant to me for I believe you understand. I'm like a man crossing
the desert who finds a spring and gets enough water to last him till
the next oasis."

He held out his hand to Lahoma who had risen swiftly at these signs
of departure. "God bless you, little girl!" he said cheerily. "A
man's fortunate who finds such oases along his desert-trail!"

It was not Bill's gruffness, but Lahoma's charm that warned him to
flee lest he break his promise to her guardians.

"But you can't go, yet," cried Lahoma, not taking his hand, "there
are a thousand things I want to do with you that I've never had a
chance to do with anybody else--strolling, for instance. Come and
stroll--I'll show you about the cove. Brick and Bill don't know
anything about strolling as they do in pictures. Hold out your arm
with a crook in it and I'll slip my hand just inside where you'll
hold it soft and warm like a bird in its nest.... Isn't his noble?
And I holds back--excuse me--I HOLD back my skirts with my other
hand, and this is the way we stroll, like an engraving out of the
history of Louis the Fourteenth's court. Do, oh, do!" Her bright