“You have far to go, Miss Allison,” he said as he stood beside her smiling down into her face, “and Sonny and I must be careful not to work a hardship on you, or you might not come again.” The ride back down Little Blue was quiet. A thousand impressions were moiling happily in Nance’s mind. Her eyes felt drowsy, a little smile kept pulling at her lips’ corners, and yet, so wholly inexperienced was she, she did not know what magic had been at work in the green silence of the Circle and Grey Spring. It was only when Fair pulled his horse so sharply up that Buckskin nearly stumbled on his heels that she came out of her abstraction. He sat rigid in his saddle, one hand extended in warning, gazing straight ahead to where Little Blue opened into Blue Stone. She looked ahead and understood. A horseman was just coming into sight at the right edge of the opening, a big red steer was just vanishing at the left—and the man was Kate Cathrew’s rider, Sud Provine. He rode straight across and did not glance up the cut, and the watchers in the shadow knew they were unobserved. For a long time they sat in tense silence after he had passed, waiting, listening, but nothing followed and presently Fair turned and looked at her. His lips were tightly set and his face was grave. “Miss Allison,” he said regretfully, “that’s the first human I’ve seen in Blue Stone Cañon beside yourself, and it means something to me. It means that Sonny and I must move—at once.” He sat thinking a moment, then raised his eyes to hers again. “I believe—if you will trust us a little longer—and if you can keep him hidden—that I will take you up. I’ll give you Sonny for a while. I feel guilty in doing so, for I know how heavily burdened you are already, but some day I shall make it right with you—as handsomely right as possible. Will he be too much trouble?” “Trouble?” cried Nance, her face radiant, “give him to me this minute!” and she held out her arms. Brand turned and looked down at the boy, smiling again. “How about that, kid?” he asked. “Cookies and Miss Allison’s lap instead of the cold cañon and lonesomeness—why—why, old-timer—what’s the matter?” He pulled the child around a bit to scan him more closely. The little face was milk-white, the brown eyes wide. “You—going to—to give me away, Brand?” said Sonny with that curious seeming of maturity which sometimes fell upon him. The man’s face grew very tender. “I should say not!” he said reassuringly, “I’m only going to let you stay awhile with Miss Allison—so our enemies won’t find you when I’m gone.” Nance leaned forward. “Enemies?” she said sharply. “Enemies, you say?” “A figure of speech,” smiled Fair, “but just the same we don’t want any one beside yourself to know about us. And by the way, my name is Smith at Cordova—and Sonny doesn’t exist.” “I see,” said the girl slowly, “or rather I don’t see—but as I said before, it doesn’t matter.”