"I reckon I won't say," was the quiet, deliberate refusal.

Helen stamped her foot in exasperation.

"Be careful that I do not put a wrong construction on your strange
action," said she coldly. "If you have reasons, you might trust me. If
you are only----"

"Sh-s-sh!" he breathed, grasping her wrist, and holding it firmly in
his powerful hand. The whole attitude of the man had altered swiftly,
subtly. The listlessness was gone. His lithe body became rigid as he
leaned forward, his head toward the ground, and turned slightly in a
manner that betokened intent listening.

Helen trembled as she felt his powerful frame quiver. Whatever had
thus changed him, gave her another glimpse of his complex personality.
It seemed to her incredible that with one whispered exclamation this
man could change from cold indifference to a fire and force so strong
as to dominate her.

Statue-like she remained listening; but hearing no sound, and
thrillingly conscious of the hand on her arm.

Far up on the hillside an owl hooted dismally, and an instant later,
faint and far away, came an answer so low as to be almost indistinct.

The borderman raised himself erect as he released her.

"It's only an owl," she said in relief.