Graham, riding solitary through the redwood canyons among the hills that overlooked the ranch center, was getting acquainted with Selim, the eleven-hundred-pound, coal-black gelding which Dick had furnished him in place of the lighter Altadena. As he rode along, learning the good nature, the roguishness and the dependableness of the animal, Graham hummed the words of the "Gypsy Trail" and allowed them to lead his thoughts. Quite carelessly, foolishly, thinking of bucolic lovers carving their initials on forest trees, he broke a spray of laurel and another of redwood. He had to stand in the stirrups to pluck a long-stemmed, five-fingered fern with which to bind the sprays into a cross. When the patteran was fashioned, he tossed it on the trail before him and noted that Selim passed over without treading upon it. Glancing back, Graham watched it to the next turn of the trail. A good omen, was his thought, that it had not been trampled. More five-fingered ferns to be had for the reaching, more branches of redwood and laurel brushing his face as he rode, invited him to continue the manufacture of patterans, which he dropped as he fashioned them. An hour later, at the head of the canyon, where he knew the trail over the divide was difficult and stiff, he debated his course and turned back. Selim warned him by nickering. Came an answering nicker from close at hand. The trail was wide and easy, and Graham put his mount into a fox trot, swung a wide bend, and overtook Paula on the Fawn. "Hello!" he called. "Hello! Hello!" She reined in till he was alongside. "I was just turning back," she said. "Why did you turn back? I thought you were going over the divide to Little Grizzly." "You knew I was ahead of you?" he asked, admiring the frank, boyish way of her eyes straight-gazing into his. "Why shouldn't I? I had no doubt at the second patteran." "Oh, I'd forgotten about them," he laughed guiltily. "Why did _you_ turn back?" She waited until the Fawn and Selim had stepped over a fallen alder across the trail, so that she could look into Graham's eyes when she answered: "Because I did not care to follow your trail.--To follow anybody's trail," she quickly amended. "I turned back at the second one." He failed of a ready answer, and an awkward silence was between them. Both were aware of this awkwardness, due to the known but unspoken things. "Do you make a practice of dropping patterans?" Paula asked. "The first I ever left," he replied, with a shake of the head. "But there was such a generous supply of materials it seemed a pity, and, besides, the song was haunting me." "It was haunting me this morning when I woke up," she said, this time her face straight ahead so that she might avoid a rope of wild grapevine that hung close to her side of the trail.