me do it, and on the point of saying
something she checked herself, and her face, I
thought, paled a little.

That night I learned why--when she
came in from the porch after Marston was
gone. I saw she had wormed enough of
the story out of him to worry her, for her
face this time was distinctly pale. I would
tell her no more than she knew, however,
and then she said she was sure she had seen
the Wild Dog herself that afternoon,
sitting on his horse in the bushes near a
station in Wildcat Valley. She was sure
that he saw her, and his face had
frightened her. I knew her fright was for
Marston and not for herself, so I laughed
at her fears. She was mistaken--Wild
Dog was an outlaw now and he would not
dare appear at the Gap, and there was no
chance that he could harm her or Marston.
And yet I was uneasy.

It must have been a happy ten days for
those two young people. Every afternoon
Marston would come in from the mines
and they would go off horseback together,
over ground that I well knew--for I had
been all over it myself--up through the
gray-peaked rhododendron-bordered Gap