As they rose into the higher levels the aspen shook its yellowish leaves in the breeze, and the purple foot-hills gained in majesty. Great new peaks came into view on the right, and the lofty cliffs of the Bear Tooth range loomed in naked grandeur high above the blue-green of the pines which clothed their sloping eastern sides. At intervals the road passed small log ranches crouching low on the banks of creeks; but aside from these--and the sparse animal life around them--no sign of settlement could be seen. The valley lay as it had lain for thousands of years, repeating its forests as the meadows of the lower levels send forth their annual grasses. Norcross said to himself: "I have circled the track of progress and have re-entered the border America, where the stage-coach is still the one stirring thing beneath the sun." At last the driver, with a note of exultation, called out: "Grab a root, everybody, it's all the way down-hill and time to feed." And so, as the dusk came over the mighty spread of the hills to the east, and the peaks to the west darkened from violet to purple-black, the stage rumbled and rattled and rushed down the winding road through thickening signs of civilization, and just at nightfall rolled into the little town of Bear Tooth, which is the eastern gateway of the Ute Plateau. Norcross had given a great deal of thought to the young girl behind him, and thought had deepened her charm. Her frankness, her humor, her superb physical strength and her calm self-reliance appealed to him, and the more dangerously, because he was so well aware of his own weakness and loneliness, and as the stage drew up before the hotel, he fervently said: "I hope I shall see you again?" Before she could reply a man's voice called: "Hello, there!" and a tall fellow stepped up to her with confident mien. Norcross awkwardly shrank away. This was her cowboy lover, of course. It was impossible that so attractive a girl should be unattached, and the knowledge produced in him a faint but very definite pang of envy and regret. The happy girl, even in the excitement of meeting her lover, did not forget the stranger. She gave him her hand in parting, and again he thrilled to its amazing power. It was small, but it was like a steel clamp. "Stop in on your way to Meeker's," she said, as a kindly man would have done. "You pass our gate. My father is Joseph McFarlane, the Forest Supervisor. Good night." "Good night," he returned, with sincere liking. "Who is that?" Norcross heard her companion ask. She replied in a low voice, but he overheard her answer, "A poor 'lunger,' bound for Meeker's--and Kingdom Come, I'm afraid. He seems a nice young feller, too." "They always wait till the last minute," remarked the rancher, with indifferent tone. II A RIDE IN THE RAIN