"I am my father's deputy," said the girl, quietly, gathering her bridle and wheeling her horse. "I read your note. Have you reason to believe that an attempt has been made to fire the Owl Vlaie?" There was a ring of business in her voice that struck him as amusingly delightful--and such a sweet, clear voice, too, untinged with the slightest taint of native accent. "Yes," said Burleson, gravely, "I'm afraid that somebody tried to burn the vlaie. I think that a change in the wind alone saved us from a bad fire." "Shall we ride over?" inquired the girl, moving forward with unconscious grace. Burleson ranged his big horse alongside; she set her mount at a gallop, and away they went, wheeling into the swale, knee-deep in dry, silvery grasses, until the deputy fire-warden drew bridle with a side-flung caution: "Muskrats! Look out for a cropper!" Now, at a walk, the horses moved forward side by side through the pale, glistening sea of grass stretching out on every side. Over a hidden pond a huge heron stood guard, stiff and shapeless as a weather-beaten stake. Blackbirds with crimson-slashed shoulders rose in clouds from the reeds, only to settle again as they passed amid a ceaseless chorus of harsh protest. Once a pair of summer duck came speeding overhead, and Burleson, looking up, exclaimed: "There's a bird I never shoot at. It's too beautiful." The girl turned her head, serious gray eyes questioning his. "Have you ever seen a wood-duck?--a drake? in full plumage?" he asked. "Often--before Mr. Grier came." Burleson fell silent, restless in his saddle, then said: "I hope you will see many wood-duck now. My boats on Spirit Water are always at Mr. Elliott's disposal--and at yours." She made the slightest sign of acknowledgment, but said nothing. Once or twice she rose upright, standing straight in her stirrups to scan the distance under a small, inverted hand. East and north the pine forest girdled the vlaie; west and south hardwood timber laced the sky-line with branches partly naked, and the pine's outposts of white birch and willow glimmered like mounds of crumpled gold along the edges of the sea of grass. "There is the stream!" said Burleson, suddenly. [Illustration: "AWAY THEY WENT, KNEE-DEEP IN DRY SILVERY GRASSES"] She saw it at the same moment, touched her mare with spurred heels, and lifted her clean over with a grace that set Burleson's nerves thrilling. He followed, taking the water-jump without effort; and after a second's hesitation ventured to praise her horse. "Yes," she said, indifferently, "The Witch is a good mare." After a silence, "My father desires to sell her." "I know a dozen men who would jump at the chance," said the young fellow. "But"--he hesitated--"it is a shame to sell such a mare--" The girl colored. "My father will never ride again," she said, quietly. "We should be very glad to sell her." "But--the mare suits you so perfectly--"