led to the Lewallen cabin swerved at one place to a cliff
overlooking the river, and by hard riding and a climb of a few
hundred feet on foot he could overtake her half-way up the
mountain steep.

The plan was no more than shaped before he was in the saddle and
galloping down the river. The set of his face changed hardly a line
while he swam the stream, and, drenched to the waist, scaled the
cliff. When he reached the spot, he found the prints of a woman's
shoe in the dust of the path, going down. There were none
returning, and he had not long to wait. A scarlet bit of color soon
flashed through the gray bushes below him. The girl was without
her bag of corn. She was climbing slowly, and was looking at the
ground as though in deep thought. Reckless as she was, she had
come to realize at last just what she had done. She had been
pleased at first, as would have been any woman, when she saw the
big mountaineer watching her, for her life was lonely. She had
waved her bonnet at him from mere mischief. She hardly knew it
herself, but she had gone across the river to find out who he was.
She had shrunk from him as from a snake thereafter, and had gone
no more until old Jasper had sent her because the Lewallen mill
was broken, and because she was a woman, and would be safe
from harm. She had met him then when she could not help
herself. But now she had gone of her own accord. She had given
this Stetson, a bitter enemy, a chance to see her, to talk with her.
She had listened to him; she had been on the point of letting him
grind her corn. And he knew how often she had gone to the mill,
and he could not know that she had ever been sent. Perhaps he
thought that she had come to make overtures of peace, friendship,
even more. The suspicion reddened her face with shame, and her