They galloped across the creek, Fred leading till they came to a place where the stream made a graceful bend among the aspens, and there in an opening of the grove about ten rods square was the wild berry patch. Leaping from his horse, he found some of the berries, small but sweet and juicy, and handed them up to his companion, saying, “There, will you believe it now?” “Oh, this is fine!” she responded, jumping from Eagle’s back. “And Aunt ‘Liza said that this was a fruitless country. I’ll give her a big surprise.” “Good, let me help you!” And they worked away like happy children among the berries. “There are other kinds of fruit in these mountains, too,” he went on. “Uncle Dave showed me huckleberries and raspberries and chokecherries the other day, but they’re not ready yet.” “Uncle Dave? Who’s he?” asked Alta. “The old mountaineer that I told you about the day you caught the fish.” “Yes, and you did not keep your promise to take me up to see him.” “Well, I’ll certainly keep it whenever you are ready. How would you like to take a ride Saturday with me after chickens?” “Let’s do it,” she responded, “next Saturday--Good! Where shall I come?” “Meet me here about four o’clock.” “All right. Now I must be getting home or Aunt ‘Liza will scold.” “But you haven’t your currants,” suggested Fred. “I declare I’d forgotten them! I should get a scolding for sure if I didn’t get some for her pie. But I can soon fill the pail.” “With me to help,” said Fred; “let’s go to the patch across the creek where they’re thick.” In a few moments they were among the currant brush, chatting merrily as they worked away. The pail was soon filled with golden-brown currants. Fred placed the lid on securely and helped Alta mount her pony. “Oh, thank you ever so much,” she said, as she turned to ride away. “It is fun to help you,” he responded; “come again.” “Four o’clock next Saturday; I’ll remember,” she called back. Another pair of eager ears caught her parting words, too. Dick, returning from a fruitless quest after the work horses that morning, had come upon the two unawares. Seeing that they had not noticed him, he slipped back into the grove, where for the last few moments he had sat on his horse, eyes and ears alive to catch what was going on. But nothing significant came till he heard this good-by sentence. It made him furiously jealous, but he held down his feelings until Alta had disappeared; then, breaking from the brush, he rode up to Fred with his usual bravado and said sneeringly, “Hello, cow-baby! Tendin’ to business well to-day?” With this cutting remark, he struck spurs to his horse and dashed away over the flat, leaving Fred too astonished to reply. He hurried to gather up his scattered herd, and found one of his fattest heifers missing. All the afternoon he searched for her, but night came and the animal was still gone. The boy was sorely worried.