Having reached the bank of the creek, he unsaddled, watered his horse and picketed it, and started a fire. Uneasily she watched him. “I don’t like to sleep out. Isn’t there a ranchhouse near?” “Y’u wouldn’t call it near by the time we had reached it. What’s to hinder your sleeping here? Isn’t this room airy enough? And don’t y’u like the system of lighting? ’Twas patented I forget how many million years ago. Y’u ain’t going to play parlor girl now after getting the reputation y’u’ve got for gameness, are y’u?” But he knew well enough that it was no silly schoolgirl fear she had, but some deep instinct in her that distrusted him and warned her to beware. So, lightly he took up the burden of the talk while he gathered cottonwood branches for the fire. “Now if I’d only thought to bring a load of lumber and some carpenters—and a chaperon,” he chided himself in burlesque, his bold eyes closely on the girl’s face to gloat on the color that flew to her cheeks at his suggestion. She hastened to disclaim lightly the feeling he had unmasked in her. “It is a pity, but it can’t be helped now. I suppose I am cross and don’t seem very grateful. I’m tired out and nervous, but I am sure that I’ll enjoy sleeping out. If I don’t I shall not be so ungenerous as to blame you.” He soon had a cup of steaming coffee ready for her, and the heat of it made a new woman of her. She sat in the warm fire glow, and began to feel stealing over her a delightful reaction of languor. She told herself severely it was ridiculous to have been so foolishly prim about the inevitable. “Since you know my name, isn’t it fair that I should know yours?” she smilingly asked, more amiably than she had yet spoken to him. “Well, since I have found the lamb that was lost, y’u may call me a shepherd of the desert.” “Then, Mr. Shepherd, I’m very glad to meet you. I don’t remember when I ever was more glad to meet a stranger.” And she added with a little laugh: “It’s a pity I’m too sleepy to do my duty by you in a social way.” “We’ll let that wait till to-morrow. Y’u’ll entertain me plenty then. I’ll make your bunk up right away.” She was presently lying with her feet to the fire, snugly rolled in his saddle blankets. But though her eyes were heavy, her brain was still too active to permit her to sleep immediately. The excitement of her adventure was too near, the emotions of the day too poignantly vivid, to lose their hold on her at once. For the first time in her life she lay lapped in the illimitable velvet night, countless unwinking stars lighting the blue-black dream in which she floated. The enchantment of the night’s loveliness swept through her sensitive pulses and thrilled her with the mystery of the great life of which she was an atom. Awe held her a willing captive.