"Dog-gone the luck!" he growled as he entered his cabin. And with the brief expletive he condemned his disloyalty to the sprightly, slender Dorothy; the Peter Pan of the Blue Mesa; the dream girl of that idle noon at the Big Spring. The other girl--well, she was just playing with him. * * * * * In view of Lorry's training and natural carefulness it was especially significant that he decided next day that he had forgotten to lay in enough supplies for his journey south. He would ride to Jason and pack in what he needed. He had a fair excuse. Bronson had recently borrowed some of his canned provisions. He was well on his way to Jason that morning before the others had arisen. He was back at the camp shortly after nine that night. As he passed Bronson's cabin he saw a light in the window. Mrs. Weston was talking with Dorothy. Lorry had hoped to catch a glimpse of Alice Weston. He had been hoping all that day that he would see her again before he left. Perhaps she was asleep. As he passed the corral a greeting came from the darkness:-- "Good-evening! I thought you had gone." "I--I didn't see you," he stammered. Alice Weston laughed softly. "Oh, I was just out here looking at the stars. It's cooler out here. Then you changed your mind about going?" "Nope. I had to go to Jason for grub. I'm going to-morrow." "Oh, I see! We thought you had gone." "Got a headache?" queried Lorry. Her voice had been so unnaturally low, almost sad. "No. I just wanted to be alone." Lorry fumbled in his pockets. "I got the mail," he stated. "I'll give it to Mr. Bronson." Lorry leaned down and gave her the packet of letters and papers. "Good-bye. I won't see you in the mornin'" "We'll miss you." "Honest?" "Of course!" And she gave him her hand. He drew his foot from the stirrup. "Put your foot in there," he said, still holding her hand. "But why?" "'Cause I'm goin' to ride off with you, like in books." He laughed, but his laughter was tense and unnatural. It was dark. The stars shone faintly. The air was soft with a subtle fragrance; the fragrance of sun-warmed pine that the night had stolen from the slumbering woodlands. She slipped her foot in the wide stirrup. Half laughing, she allowed him to draw her up. She felt the hard strength of his arm, and was thrilled. She had not meant to do anything like this. "You been playin' with me," he told her, whispering, "and I take my pay." She turned her face away, but he found her lips and crushed her to him. "Oh!" she whispered as he kissed her again and again. Slowly his arm relaxed. White-faced and trembling, she slid to the ground and stood looking up at him. "I hate you!" she said. "No, you don't," said Lorry quite cheerfully. And he reached out his hand as though to take her hand again. She stood still, making no effort to avoid him. Then--"No, please!" she begged.