"Everything!" she cried. Then she added almost to herself: "Everything I can think of, have ever dreamed of in life." Then suddenly her voice rose to a ring of ecstasy. It was the abundance, the purity of her love, the certainty of victory over self which inspired it. "Ah, Evie, don't be rattled with what I'm telling you. Ther' surely is no need. You want to be mad with me. Guess you needn't to be. Jeff don't know it. He never will know it. I've never had a hope of him since he met you. He's always been just yours. I don't guess you need to worry a thing that way. The worrying's for me. I've loved him since ever I was a child: since ever he came here. Well, you figure he's in danger--so it's up to those who love him to do. You see, I--well, I just love him with my whole soul." She turned away. The reception of her confession seemed to concern her not at all. Out of the darkness loomed her father's great figure. He was leading Nan's horse as well as his own. The girl leaped into the saddle, and he passed his own reins up to her. "I shan't be haf a minit," he said. "I need my guns. The boys are waitin' by the barn." He passed into the house. Then Nan observed Elvine. She, too, had leaped into the saddle. Nor could the girl help being struck by the manner of her action. "You're goin' back home?" she cried. Elvine shook her head resolutely. "How--then?" The wife suddenly urged her horse. It came right up to Nan's with an almost spasmodic jump, driven by a vicious jab of the woman's spurred heel. The dark eyes were lit with an angry fire as she leaned forward in the saddle. Her words came in a voice of passionate jealousy. "You love him, so you go to him, ready to face anything--for him. Do you think I don't love him? Do you think I'm not ready to dare for him--anything? Your love gives you that right. What of mine? Does mine give me no right? Say, child, your fool conceit runs away with you. I tell you you don't know what love is. You say you love him with your whole soul. And you are content to live without him. Psha! Your soul must be a poor enough thing. I tell you life means nothing to me without him. I can't and won't live without him." * * * * * * The black earth sped under the horses' hoofs. The stars shone like dew on the velvet pall of night. Bud led, as he always led in the things practical which belonged to his life. He needed no thought for guidance on that night journey. Unerring instinct served him across those wide plains. Spruce Crossing might have possessed a beacon light, so straight, so unerring was the lead he offered those behind him.