That little waiting, calm, unruffled, made him think sharply of Tharon Last who had waited also for his accounting for himself. "I am Kenset," he said, "of over in the foothills. Is your husband at home?" "No," said Ellen, "he's gone in t' Corvan." There was a world of meaning in the inflection. "Yes? Now that's too bad. It's taken me a long time to come and I particularly wished to see him. Do you mind if I wait?" "Why, no," said Ellen a bit reluctantly, "no, sir, I guess not." Kenset swung off the brown horse and dropped the rein. "Tired, Captain?" he asked whimsically, rubbing the sweaty mane, while the animal drew a long whistling breath and in turn rubbed the sticky brow band on its forehead on Kenset's arm. "Looks like he's thirsty," said Ellen presently. "There's a trough round yonder at th' back," and she waved a long hand. Kenset led Captain around back where a living spring sang and gurgled into a section of tree, deeply hollowed and covered with moss. When he came back to the shade the woman had brought from some near place a second chair, and he dropped gratefully into it, weary from his long ride. He laid his hat on the earth beside him and smoothed the sleek, dark hair back from his forehead. Ellen sat still and watched him with a steady gaze. She was finding him strange. She looked at his olive drab garments, at the trim leather leggings that encased his lower limbs, at his smooth hands, at his face, and lastly at the dark shield on his breast. "Law?" she asked succinctly. "Well," smiled Kenset, "after a fashion." She moved uneasily in her chair, and the man had a sudden feeling of pity for her. "Not as you mean, Mrs. Courtrey," he hastened. "I am in the United States Forest Service, if you know what that is." "No," said Ellen, "I don't know." "It is simply a service for the conservation of the timber of this country," he explained gently, but he saw that he was not making it clear. "The saving of the trees," he went on, "the care of the forests." "Oh," she said, relieved. "We look after the ranges, protect the woods from fire, and so on." "Look after th' ranges? How?" "Regulate grazing, grant permits." "Permits?" "Yes." And seeing that at last he had caught her interest, Kenset talked quietly for an hour and told her more than he had vouchsafed any other in Lost Valley about his work. Gradually, however, he fell to talking to amuse her, for he saw the emptiness behind the big blue eyes, the aching void which there was nothing to fill, neither love nor hope. As the sun sank lower toward the west Ellen took off the atrocity of calico and starch, and he saw with wonder the amazing beauty of her ropes of hair.