She was a very attractive-looking girl, Steele noted casually as he brought his own car to a halt and sprang out to join her, wading the water with his laced boots. As he approached he perceived that she had a slender well-rounded figure, fine-spun brown hair under her hat brim, clear brown eyes and the pink of peach blossoms in her soft smooth cheeks. But her look of relief vanished when she distinguished his face and her shoulders squared themselves. "Has your engine stopped?" he inquired. "Yes." "I'll look into the hood." "I prefer that you would not." For an instant surprise marked his countenance. "You mean that you desire to remain here?" he asked. "I don't wish to remain here, but I choose that in preference to your aid." The man, who had bent forward to lift one cover of the engine, straightened up at that. He considered her intently and in silence for a time, marking her heightened color, the haughty poise of her head, the firm set of her lips. "To my knowledge, I never saw you before in my life," he remarked at last. "What, may I ask, is your particular reason for declining my services?" She was dumb for a little, while she tucked back a stray tendril of hair. The act was performed with the left hand; and Weir's eyes, which seldom missed anything, observed a diamond flash on the third finger. "Well, I'd choose not to explain," said she, afterwards, "but if you insist----" "I don't insist, I merely request ... your highness." A flash of anger shot from her eyes at this irony. "Don't think I'm afraid to tell you!" she cried. "It's because you're the manager of the construction camp; and if you've never seen me before, I've at least had you pointed out to me. I wish no assistance from the man who turns off his poor workmen without excuse or warning, and brings want and trouble upon the community. It was like striking them in the face. And then you break your promise not to bring in other workmen!" As she had said, she did not lack courage. Her words gushed forth in a torrent, as if an expression of pent up and outraged justice, disclosing a fervent sympathy and a fine zeal--and, likewise, a fine ignorance of the facts. "Well, why don't you say something?" she added, when he gave no indication of replying. Steele could have smiled at this feminine view of the matter that violent assertions required affirmations or denials. "What am I supposed to say?" he asked. Apparently that exhausted her patience. "You'll please molest me no longer," she stated, icily. "Very well." He raised the hood and inspected the engine. During his attempts to start it, she sat nonchalantly humming an air and gazing at the mountains as if her mind were a thousand miles away--which it was not. "Something wrong; it will have to be hauled in," said he finally.