He smiled grimly and with an effort turned and walked around the corner of the rock, intending to descend the hill and mount his pony. But as he passed around to the side of the rock he heard her voice: "Wait, please," she said in a scarcely audible voice. He halted, looking gravely at her from the opposite side of the rock. "You wantin' to get somethin' more for your story?" he asked. She turned and looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes luminous with a tell-tale expression, her face crimson. "Why," she said smiling at him, "do you really think that I could be so mean?" He was around the rock again in half a dozen steps and standing above her, his eyes alight, his lips parted slightly with surprise and eagerness. "Do you mean that you wantin' to make sure that I loved you wasn't all for the sake of the story?" he demanded rapidly. Her eyes drooped away from his. "Didn't you tell me that a writer should be in love in order to be able to write of it?" she asked, her face averted. "Yes." He was trembling a little and leaning toward her. In this position he caught her low reply. "I think my love story will be real," she returned. "I have learned----" But whatever she might have wanted to add was smothered when his arms closed tightly about her. A little later she drew a deep breath and looked up at him with moist, eloquent eyes. "Perhaps I _shall_ have to change the story a little," she said. He drew her head to his shoulder, one hand caressing her hair. "If you do," he said smiling, "don't have the hero thinkin' that the girl is makin' a fool of him." He drew her close. "That cert'nly was a mighty bad minute you give me," he added. CHAPTER XVIII THE DIM TRAIL. A shadow fell upon the rock. Ferguson turned his head and looked toward the west, where the sun had already descended over the mountains. "Why it's sundown!" he said, smiling into Miss Radford's eyes. "I reckon the days must be gettin' shorter." "The happy days are always short," she returned, blushing. He kissed her for this. For a while they sat, watching together the vari-colors swimming in the sky. They sat close together, saying little, for mere words are sometimes inadequate. In a little time the colors faded, the mountain peaks began to throw sombre shades; twilight--gray and cold--settled suddenly into the flat. Then Miss Radford raised her head from Ferguson's shoulder and sighed. "Time to go home," she said. "Yes, time," he returned. "I'm ridin' down that far with you." They rose and clambered down the hillside and he helped her into the saddle. Then he mounted Mustard and rode across the flat beside her.