“Well, may I be—” Fogg caught himself. “Lucy, you broke that intentionally!” She turned on him with flashing eyes. “Mr. Fogg, I did. You saw what was in that picture. You know what it told, or you will know when you think it over. I broke it so that it could never be used or seen by anybody. I’m glad I saw it just when I did. I beg your pardon, but I had to do it.” Was this the Lucy Justin fancied he knew so well? He was astonished beyond measure. “Yes, I guess you’re right,” Fogg admitted, as soon as he was able to say anything. “That dam went out, and—yes, I guess you’re right! It wouldn’t do for that picture to be seen. I’ve been wondering how you happened to be where we found you, and what you and Ben were doing there.” “Mr. Fogg,” her tones were sharp, “don’t accuse me even in your mind; I had nothing to do with it, but tried to stop it.” She hesitated. “And—whatever you think, please don’t say anything to Uncle Philip; not now, at any rate; and don’t tell him about the picture.” She turned to the door. “Justin,” she said, and her tones altered, “I’ll see you to-morrow; or this evening, if you like.” “This evening,” he begged; and following her from the room, he hurried out to the bunk house to shift into dry clothing. When he saw her again, in the little parlor, she was pale, and he thought she had been crying, but her agitation and her strange manner were both gone. He came to the window where she stood, and with her looked out into the stormy night. The white glare of the lightning illuminated the whole valley at times. About the top of the mountain it burned continually. The cottonwoods and willows were writhing by the stream. On the roof and the sides of the house the dashing rain pounded furiously. “Justin,” she said, as he stood beside her, “I must explain that to you. You know what that picture meant?” He wanted to fold her in his arms and comfort her, when he heard her voice break, but he checked the desire. “I could guess,” he said. “I came down from Denver on the late train, having missed the earlier one.” “I was in town when the earlier one came in,” he informed her, regretting for the moment that his too speedy return had kept him from meeting her there. “If I had known you were coming!” She looked at him fondly, as in the old days. How beautiful she was, though now very pale! He felt that he had not been mistaken in thinking her the most beautiful girl in the world. The East had certainly been kind to her. “It was to be a surprise for you—you great boy, and for Uncle Philip. I had no idea how it would turn out. In the town I got a horse. The storm was threatening, but I thought I could get home. Just before I reached Jasper’s I overtook Ben on his pony. I’m telling you this, Justin, because I know you will never mention it!” “I will never speak of it,” he promised. “I knew you wouldn’t. Now, you must never mention this, either—but Ben had been drinking.”