The journey homeward held many incalculable differences from the uncertain doubts and fears that had tormented Lenore on the outward trip. For a long time she felt the warm, tight clasp of Dorn's hand on hers as he had said good-by. Very evidently he believed that was to be his last sight of her. Lenore would never forget the gaze that seemed to try to burn her image on his memory forever. She felt that they would meet again. Solemn thoughts revolved in her mind; still, she was not unhappy. She had given much unsought, but the return to her seemed growing every moment that she lived. The dust had been settled by the rain for many miles; however, beyond Palmer there began to show evidences that the storm had thinned out or sheered off, because the road gradually grew dry again. When dust rose once more Lenore covered her face, although, obsessed as she was by the deep change in herself, neither dust nor heat nor distance affected her greatly. Like the miles the moments sped by. She was aware through closed eyes when darkness fell. Stops were frequent after the Copper River had been crossed, and her father appeared to meet and question many persons in the towns they passed. Most of his questioning pertained to the I.W.W. And even excited whispering by her father and Jake had no power to interest her. It was midnight when they reached "Many Waters" and Lenore became conscious of fatigue. Nash crowded in front of Jake as she was about to step out, and assisted her. He gave her arm a hard squeeze and fiercely whispered in her ear, "To-morrow!" The whisper was trenchant with meaning and thoroughly aroused Lenore. But she gave no sign and moved away. "I seen strangers sneakin' off in the dark," Jake was whispering to Anderson. "Keep your eyes peeled," replied Anderson. "I'll take Lenore up to the house an' come back." It was pitch black up the path through the grove and Lenore had to cling to her father. "Is there--any danger?" she whispered. "We're lookin' for anythin'," replied Anderson, slowly. "Will you be careful?" "Sure, lass. I'll take no foolish risks. I've got men watchin' the house an' ranch. But I'd better have the cowboys down. There's Jake--he spots some prowlin' coyotes the minute we reach home." Anderson unlocked and opened the door. The hall was dark and quiet. He turned on the electric light. Lenore was detaching her veil. "You look pale," he said, solicitously. "No wonder. That was a ride. But I'm glad we went. I saved Dorn's wheat." "I'm glad, too, father. Good-night!" He bade her good-night, and went out, locking the door. Then his rapid footsteps died away. Wearily Lenore climbed the stairs and went to her room. * * * * * She was awakened from deep slumber by Kathleen, who pulled and tugged at her. "Lenorry, I thought you was dead, your eyes were shut so tight," declared the child. "Breakfast is waiting. Did you fetch me anything?" "Yes, a new sister," replied Lenore, dreamily.