At the thought of his audacity, the perspiration broke out on McKay’s forehead. “Well she had me plumb locoed. I remember once a horse had me buffaloed the same way,” he explained. “I was scared, scared blue, Steve; but finally I got up my nerve and thought I’d go and break my affections to her gentle and polite like. So one day I rode over to their place,—you know where it is was, just south of the Dominion trail,—and I thought I’d go to see her brother Charlie and fix it up with him. When I reached their shack she came to the door looking as neat as a partridge and with a sort of smile hidden somewhere in her face, and—and I’ll be damned if I didn’t kiss her right then without any formalities.” “That was the simplest solution of the problem, wasn’t it?” laughed Stephen. “When are you going to be married?” “Oh, soon, I guess; but I wish it could be managed as simply as these Mexicans do. And how about you, Steve?” continued McKay. “You ain’t been took this way yourself, have you? Not that woman you was telling me about in Mexico.” Loring shook his head. “Unfortunately she was a married woman.” “I sort of thought,” went on McKay, “that you and Miss Cameron was—” “Well, you thought wrongly,” interrupted Loring sharply. “I never expect to see Miss Cameron again.” There came a ripple of laughter from the doorway, and looking up quickly he saw Jean and her father walk into the office. Behind them stood Baird Radlett. “What a hospitable form of welcome!” exclaimed Miss Cameron, smiling at him frankly. For a moment Loring swayed in his chair, then he rose stiffly, as a man in a trance. He stared at Jean with an absorption that was almost rude, as if there were nothing in the universe beyond her. There lay a hint of laughter in the gray depths of her eyes. “What is the matter?” asked Radlett. “Are you surprised to see us? Didn’t you get my letter?” “It is probably in to-night’s mail which haven’t opened yet,” answered Loring, still half dazed. “Mr. Cameron has consented to come and make a report on the property for me,” explained Baird. Mr. Cameron came forward and held out his hand. “Mr. Loring, I have heard of the splendid work that you have done here. I want to congratulate you.” This little speech was a hard one for Mr. Cameron to make; but he was a man who, when he had once made up his mind to the right course, followed it to the end. The expression of pride in Stephen’s face turned to one of appreciation, and he shook Mr. Cameron’s hand with a firm, grateful pressure. But all the while he was looking at Jean longingly, worshipingly, all unconscious of the intensity of his gaze, as a man who for days has been in the desert without water looks upon the sudden spring. In all the months that he had thought of her, dreamed of her, she had never seemed to have the beauty, the potential tenderness, which marked her now when she stood before him, her look telling him that she was proud of what her friend had been and done.