West stood looking at her for a moment, the shadow of a fleeing cloud hiding the love-light which shone in his dark eyes, then said: “You placed my blanket about me, that’s enough. Mother is anxious about you, Bess, and sent me to bring you into the house. Come—one may have too much moon you know.” CHAPTER XIII A FRANTIC HERD The next morning at breakfast, Henry West told his mother that he was going to meet James Fletcher and six of his cowboys, over at the ferry, as they came with a bunch of steers from the range about the Big Arm. Then they would drive them South to Selish, where they were to be loaded and shipped to a large stock ranch in Wyoming, to a man whose winter loss had been great. Bess became at once deeply interested in the affair, and asked if she might go over to the ferry with him to witness the feat of swimming the bunch across the Pend d’Oreille. “I am going to have half a dozen Indians take cattle across the river, and the boys will cross on the ferry with their horses so that they will be in shape to continue with the drive. Otherwise they would all be delayed by getting into dry clothing,” explained West. “Yes, you and Mother both come. It will be quite a novel sight, for you, at least, Bess.” The girl was delighted and hastened to help straighten up the house, so that Mrs. West might go also. She stopped a moment in her task, as she watched West get into his riding togs. The heavily fringed leathern chapps, the belt, with its cartridges and gun, the spurs and quirt were all quickly and deftly adjusted by the experienced hand. “Let me tie that for you,” suggested Bess, as Henry fumbled with his white silk ’kerchief, trying to fasten it about his throat without removing his gloves which he had already drawn on his hands. She tucked the dish-towel which she had been using under her arm, and standing on her tip-toes, tied the handkerchief about his neck. As her soft, dainty fingers touched his throat he closed his eyes to shut out the sight of the sweet girl so near him lest they reveal the exquisite pain which thrilled his whole being. He gripped his hands together behind him, fearing, in spite of himself, they would snatch her to him and crush her in an embrace. Through his closed teeth he said, “Hurry, Bess,” for fear he should yet lose control of himself; and once the floodgates of his passion be opened, there would be no pause till he had poured out all the longings and hopes and desires of his very soul. He knew the girl was entirely ignorant and unsuspicious of his love for her, and he did not dare frighten her by a confession, for fear the consequences might deprive him of even the comfort of being near her and seeing and hearing her. “Oh,” said Bess, as she gave him a saucy tap on the cheek, “can’t you stand still a moment! Now see, you have undone it. Really, you are more impatient to start than Mauchacho usually is.”