Grace was very much interested in everything that pertained to Edward's life. She too questioned him about his past, his schooldays, his folks, and one day she gave him one of her pictures to send to his sister. She never seemed to tire of hearing him talk, and he always found much pleasure in talking to her. She admired him with that admiration that often leads to love, while he liked her with that feeling that is more than friendship and still cannot be called love. At times, Edward thought that he would like to take her little baby face in his hands and kiss her on the lips; but he knew what the result would be, and he contented himself in imagining how good it would be. Once, while Edward was singing a new song with Grace at the piano, he bent to see the notes, until his face rubbed against hers, and then he felt a strange dizziness come to his brain, and was raising his arms to put them around her neck, when she suddenly stood up and looked him straight in the eyes, and said, "Ed--" Had she slapped him with her little hand he would not have felt nearly so bad as he did facing those large blue eyes, so reproachful and sad. "Play 'El Diavolo,'" he asked her trying to hide his embarrassment, and she did. Early the next morning Edward was on his way to his work. He had a distance of about twelve miles to ride, and the morning was so perfect that life seemed a blessing on such a day. It was one of those mornings that fill the soul with exhilaration, and makes you think of the greatness of the Creator of this wonderful world. The little wild flowers along the road were covered with dewdrops, which glistened under the first sun rays like millions of diamonds. The air was full of that sweet fragrance found nowhere but on the vast Western prairies, and Edward was thinking how good life was. He was nearing the place where thousands of steers were grazing, and was humming the air of a French song, when all at once he heard a rumbling noise. It was distant and much like the noise one hears when approaching the sea. Edward placed his hand to his ear and stopped the mare, in order to make out what was the meaning of that noise. Raising himself on his stirrups, he looked in the direction where the rumbling sound came from and saw a dark spot which kept growing as the noise increased, until a moment later the ground was actually trembling, while a big cloud of dust indicated the coming herd of crazed steers. It was a stampede--and while Edward had never seen one before, he knew its dangers. His little mare was now rearing and snorting with great evidence of fright, and Edward hardly knew what to do. He knew that to try and stop the maddened steers was an utter impossibility, but felt that it was his duty to try and do something to prevent the terrible disaster which is always sure to follow a stampede, when thousands of valuable animals fall of exhaustion and are trampled to death by the others, or, as sometimes happens, they