breathlessly.

"Why, did it mean that to you, too?" he asked.

She smiled up at him in assent.

"But I didn't say anything, did I?" whispered Ranson. "I hardly knew
you then. But I knew that day that I--that I would marry you or
nobody else. And did you think--that you--"

"Yes," Mary Cahill whispered.

He bent his head and touched her hand with his lips.

"Then we'll go back this morning to the waterfall," he said, "and
tell it that it's all come right. And now, we'll bow to those crazy
people out there, those make-believe dream-people, who don't know
that there is nothing real in this world but just you and me, and
that we love each other."

A dishevelled orderly bearing a tray with two glasses confronted
Ranson at the door. "Here's the Scotch and sodas, lieutenant," he
panted. "I couldn't get 'em any sooner. The men wanted to take 'em
off me--to drink Miss Cahill's health."

"So they shall," said Ranson. "Tell them to drink the canteen dry and
charge it to me. What's a little thing like the regulations between
friends? They have taught me my manners. Mr. Cahill," he called.

The post-trader returned from the veranda.