“I needn’t be afraid of finding anything under the secret panel,” said Agnes, with a glad little laugh. Then more softly, “Are you sorry that the place is empty?” “No, I am very glad, you sweet child.” He still held her hands and looked at her with so tender an expression that the girl’s eyes drooped. “Alicia, you know, Alicia,” he went on, “would never have joined a band of rough men and have scoured the country with them to find me. She would have been scandalized if any one had suggested such a thing.” “Was it wrong? I never thought. You see Uncle Dod was there, and I could trust him. Besides I--I--think I would have done it, anyhow, to--to--save you.” He gave her hands a sudden pressure, then dropped them. “Agnes Kennedy,” he said, “you dear, unspoiled child, you are certainly revealing a new and delightful side of your character. I don’t know what I shall do if you keep on showing these surprising traits.” He stepped back from her, and turned away his gaze to the river, now molten gold from the clouds overhead. “Talk of wealth,” he went on, “I am rich with a mine of pure gold so near me. Listen, Agnes, I have set myself a task. When I found that I was penniless, and when I decided that I would come to the West, it was my mother who insisted upon giving me her last dollar to start me in the world. She said it was her fault, the dear, unworldly woman who was so easily deceived by appearances, but I told her I would take it only as a loan, and I hold that I am not a free man till that is paid. It was not my mother’s fault that her second husband proved a visionary, unpractical man, and I should feel a mean-spirited wretch if I defrauded her of the little hoard she gave me so willingly. And that is why, in honor, I am not a free man, and why--and why, Agnes, little girl, I do not dare to see too much of you. But some day--” he turned and his eyes met hers, and each read the story revealed. Neither spoke a word till Agnes said faintly, “I must go home; mother will be expecting me.” “May I go with you?” “Oh, yes, you were going, weren’t you?” “I didn’t know. I hadn’t thought of whether I wanted to see anybody but--There, Agnes, let’s talk of the weather--or--your mother or something.” “I want to know if you feel quite well.” “Yes, except for a buzzing in my head when I try to concentrate my thoughts, but that is passing away. How did you like Dr. Flint?” “I thought him very interesting.” “He said you were the bravest girl he ever saw.” “Did he? He might have told me so.” “I told him he might say that to me but not to you, and that if he kept on raving about you, I would punch his head. There, Agnes, we must talk of the weather, or I am lost. Did your mother scold you very severely for chasing about in the woods all day with the Hunters?” “No, she looked very grave at first, but she said I did right, and she was more concerned about your having suffered on our account than about anything else.”