The parson obeyed the command. "Light the candle on the table!" came the order from Dakota. "I'm not taking any chances until I get a better look at you." Another match flared up and the parson advanced to the table and lighted the candle. He smiled while applying the match to the wick. "Don't pay to take no chances--on anything," he agreed. He stood erect, a tall man, rugged and active for his sixty years, and threw off a rain-soaked tarpaulin. Some traces of dampness were visible on his clothing, but in the circumstances he had not fared so badly. "It's a new trail to me--I don't know the country," he went on. "If I hadn't seen your light I reckon I'd have been goin' yet. I was thinkin' that it was mighty queer that you'd have a light goin' so----" He stopped short, seeing Sheila sitting on the bunk. "Shucks, ma'am," he apologized, "I didn't know you were there." His hat came off and dangled in his left hand; with the other he brushed back the hair from his forehead, smiling meanwhile at Sheila. "Why, ma'am," he said apologetically, "if your husband had told me you was here I'd have gone right on an' not bothered you." Sheila's gaze went from the parson's face and sought Dakota's, a crimson flood spreading over her face and temples. A slow, amused gleam filled Dakota's eyes. But plainly he did not intend to set the parson right--he was enjoying Sheila's confusion. The color fled from her face as suddenly as it had come and was succeeded by the pallor of a cold indignation. "I'm not married," she said instantly to the parson; "this gentleman is not my husband." "Not?" questioned the parson. "Then how--" He hesitated and looked quickly at Dakota, but the latter was watching Sheila with an odd smile and the parson looked puzzled. "This is my first day in this country," explained Sheila. The parson did not reply to this, though he continued to watch her intently. She met his gaze steadily and he smiled. "I reckon you've been caught on the trail too," he said, "by the storm." Sheila nodded. "Well, it's been right wet to-night, an' it ain't no night to be galivantin' around the country. Where you goin' to?" "To the Double R ranch." "Where's the Double R?" asked the parson. "West," Dakota answered for Sheila; "twenty miles." "Off my trail," said the parson. "I'm travelin' to Lazette." He laughed, shortly. "I'm askin' your pardon, ma'am, for takin' you to be married; you don't look like you belonged here--I ought to have knowed that right off."