"It is a long road," observed Mrs. Van Rensselaer. "I had no idea it was so far. So these are the foot-hills of the mountains. Is this Harris place very much farther?" "'Bout five mile straight up in the mountains," replied her companion. "Then," said the lady decisively, "I am going to stop here at this spring, get a drink, and rest awhile; I'm about half dead!" Jim McCullen made no reply, but good-naturedly headed his horse toward a tiny stream that trickled down a coulee near by. Mrs. Van Rensselaer followed, heaving a tired sigh of relief, as she slipped down upon the moist, flower-dotted meadows beside the stream. "Oh, this is an awful undertaking," she declared, wetting her handkerchief in the water and carefully wiping her forehead. "I thought you was pretty brave to venture it," replied old Jim, from a short distance below, where he was watering the horses. "It's a hot day and a dry wind. I told you just how it'd be." "I suppose it is some comfort to you to refer to that fact, but it doesn't make me any the less tired or cross. Yes, I'm cross, Mr. McCullen. It has been downright rude of Hope to stay away like this all summer. Of course it's possible she may have her reasons for that, but _I_ never put in such a pokey time before in all my life! I couldn't go back to New York without seeing her, and then Sydney told me that if I went up there I might be able to coax her to leave the place. But she's been there so long now--a couple of months, isn't it?--that I can't see what difference it would make if she stayed a little longer. I did want to see her, though, before I went home, so I decided I'd undertake this journey. What about this protégée of hers--this German girl she's taken to raise? Sydney said she was a pretty little thing with hair the color of mine," shaking back her fluff of fair hair, "and eyes like a 'deep blue lake.' That's all I could get out of him--'eyes like a deep blue lake!' That settles it! When a fellow begins to rhapsody over eyes like a deep blue lake, it's a good sign he's cast his anchor right there. Well, it'll be a good thing for Sydney." "She's a right smart young lady," remarked McCullen. "Hope thinks a sight of her. She can ride a little, but she ain't goin' to learn to shoot worth a cent. Hand ain't steady 'nough. They ain't many wimmen in the world can shoot like Hope, though! She beats 'em all!" "You ought to be awfully proud to think you taught her." "Proud!" said old Jim, his voice deep with emotion; "I reckon I'm proud of her in every way--not just because she can shoot. They ain't no one like her! I couldn't think no more of her if she was my own, ma'am."