“No, I am not bound to him,” Paul said, “and I am just a little bit afraid he will not approve of something I am going to do. I have decided to help Jeff Warren and my mother.” “I see.” Tye thrust his stubby fingers through the bristling mane of his mule, and bent down reflectively, “No, that will make 'im as mad as a wet hen. He hates Jeff with all the puny soul that's in him. Paul, take my advice. Doran will be at the hotel to-morrow an' wants to see you. Go have a talk with him.” “It is plainly my duty,” Paul answered, with conviction. “There are certain expenses I have to meet, and I must sell my services for all they are worth.” “Well, that's what I wanted to see you about.” Tye thrust his heels into the mule's flanks, shook the reins, clucked through his gashed teeth, and started homeward. “Good night; you know I wish you well.” Paul entered the gate and started up the walk toward the house. As he drew near the steps he saw a shadowy form emerge from the darkened doorway, move across the veranda, softly descend to the ground, and noiselessly glide toward him. It was Ethel. Her head was enveloped in a light lace shawl held close at her chin, and her sweet face showed pale and rigid through the opening. “Oh, Paul--” she began, but her timid voice trailed away into silence, and she stood staring at him, a fathomless anxiety in her eyes. “Why, I thought you were in bed long ago,” he said, in surprise. “Has anything happened--gone wrong?” “No, no,” she ejaculated; “but you--_you_, Paul--” Again her power of utterance forsook her, and she stood before him with downcast eyes. The hand holding the shawl was quivering visibly; there was a flare of burning suspense beneath her eyelids. “I see,” he said, regretfully. “Your grief has got the upper hand again. You can't fully master it yet. It may be that way for some time, but you must keep trying to view it right, for it _is_ right, Ethel. I am more positive of it to-night than ever before.” “It is not _that_--oh, it isn't _that!_” Ethel cried. “It is you, Paul--you and--” “I really don't understand,” he said, bewildered. “You say that I--” She released her hold on the shawl and laid her hand on his arm. “I must own the truth,” she began, tremulously, her voice steadying bravely as she hurried on. “I listened to what you and my uncle said when you got home to-night. You were beneath my window and I could not resist it.” “Oh, I see!” A light broke on him. “And you thought--” “You went to your room and then hurried away--you went straight toward Jeff Warren's cabin, and--” “And you counted on hearing gunshots,” he laughed, reassuringly. “Well, there were none. I owed him an apology and I made it. We are friends now, and I have my mother back.” “Oh, Paul, was that all?” He could almost see her face glow in the darkness. “I was afraid--oh, I was afraid that all your troubles were going to begin over again!”