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The　anger　that　Jean　anticipated　failed　to　materialize。　　He　stood；
breathing　hard；　with　a　hand　held　out　in　unconscious　appeal。　　By　the
same　magic；　perhaps；　that　had　transfigured　her　a　moment　past；　she　was
now　invested　again　by　the　older　character。

〃Shore　I　reckon　my　callin'　y'u　a　gentleman　was　a　little　previous；〃
she　said；　with　a　rather　dry　bitterness。　　〃But；　stranger；　yu're　sudden。〃

〃You're　not　insulted？〃　asked　Jean；　hurriedly。

〃Oh；　I've　been　kissed　before。　　Shore　men　are　all　alike。〃

〃They're　not；〃　he　replied；　hotly；　with　a　subtle　rush　of　disillusion；
a　dulling　of　enchantment。　　〃Don't　you　class　me　with　other　men　who've
kissed　you。　　I　wasn't　myself　when　I　did　it　an'　I'd　have　gone　on　my
knees　to　ask　your　forgiveness。　。　。　。　But　now　I　wouldn'tan'　I　wouldn't
kiss　you　again；　eithereven　if　youyou　wanted　it。〃

Jean　read　in　her　strange　gaze　what　seemed　to　him　a　vague　doubt；
as　if　she　was　questioning　him。

〃Miss；　I　take　that　back；〃　added　Jean；　shortly。　　〃I'm　sorry。　　I　didn't
mean　to　be　rude。　　It　was　a　mean　trick　for　me　to　kiss　you。　　A　girl　alone
in　the　woods　who's　gone　out　of　her　way　to　be　kind　to　me！　　I　don't　know
why　I　forgot　my　manners。　　An'　I　ask　your　pardon。〃

She　looked　away　then；　and　presently　pointed　far　out　and　down
into　the　Basin。

〃There's　Grass　Valley。　　That　long　gray　spot　in　the　black。　　It's　about
fifteen　miles。　　Ride　along　the　Rim　that　way　till　y'u　cross　a　trail。
Shore　y'u　can't　miss　it。　　Then　go　down。〃

〃I'm　much　obliged　to　you；〃　replied　Jean；　reluctantly　accepting　what
he　regarded　as　his　dismissal。　　Turning　his　horse；　he　put　his　foot　in
the　stirrup；　then；　hesitating；　he　looked　across　the　saddle　at　the　girl。
Her　abstraction；　as　she　gazed　away　over　the　purple　depths　suggested
loneliness　and　wistfulness。　　She　was　not　thinking　of　that　scene　spread
so　wondrously　before　her。　　It　struck　Jean　she　might　be　pondering　a
subtle　change　in　his　feeling　and　attitude；　something　he　was　conscious
of；　yet　could　not　define。

〃Reckon　this　is　good…by；〃　he　said；　with　hesitation。

〃ADIOS；　SENOR；〃　she　replied；　facing　him　again。　　She　lifted　the　little
carbine　to　the　hollow　of　her　elbow　and；　half　turning；　appeared　ready
to　depart。

〃Adios　means　good…by？　〃　he　queried。

〃Yes；　good…by　till　to…morrow　or　good…by　forever。　　Take　it　as　y'u　like。〃

〃Then　you'll　meet　me　here　day　after　to…morrow？〃　　How　eagerly　he　spoke；
on　impulse；　without　a　consideration　of　the　intangible　thing　that　had
changed　him！

〃Did　I　say　I　wouldn't？　〃

〃No。　　But　I　reckoned　you'd　not　care　to　after〃　he　replied；
breaking　off　in　some　confusion。

〃Shore　I'll　be　glad　to　meet　y'u。　　Day　after　to…morrow　about
mid…afternoon。　　Right　heah。　　Fetch　all　the　news　from　Grass　Valley。〃

〃All　right。　　Thanks。　　That'll　befine；〃　replied　Jean；　and　as　he　spoke
he　experienced　a　buoyant　thrill；　a　pleasant　lightness　of　enthusiasm；
such　as　always　stirred　boyishly　in　him　at　a　prospect　of　adventure。
Before　it　passed　he　wondered　at　it　and　felt　unsure　of　himself。
He　needed　to　think。

〃Stranger　shore　I'm　not　recollectin'　that　y'u　told　me　who　y'u　are；〃
she　said。

〃No；　reckon　I　didn't　tell；〃　he　returned。　　〃What　difference　does　that
make？　　I　said　I　didn't　care　who　or　what　you　are。　　Can't　you　feel　the
same　about　me？　〃

〃ShoreI　felt　that　way；〃　she　replied；　somewhat　non…plussed；　with　the
level　brown　gaze　steadily　on　his　face。　　But　now　y'u　make　me　think。〃

〃Let's　meet　without　knowin'　any　more　about　each　other　than　we　do　now。〃

〃Shore。　　I'd　like　that。　　In　this　big　wild　Arizona　a　girlan'　I　reckon
a　manfeels　so　insignificant。　　What's　a　name；　anyhow？　　Still；　people
an'　things　have　to　be　distinguished。　　I'll　call　y'u　'Stranger'　an'　be
satisfiedif　y'u　say　it's　fair　for　y'u　not　to　tell　who　y'u　are。〃

〃Fair！　　No；　it's　not；〃　declared　Jean；　forced　to　confession。　　〃My　name's
JeanJean　Isbel。〃

〃ISBEL！〃　she　exclaimed；　with　a　violent　start。　　〃Shore　y'u　can't　be
son　of　old　Gass　Isbel。　。　。　。　I've　seen　both　his　sons。〃

〃He　has　three；〃　replied　Jean；　with　relief；　now　the　secret　was　out。
〃I'm　the　youngest。　　I'm　twenty…four。　　Never　been　out　of　Oregon　till
now。　　On　my　way〃

The　brown　color　slowly　faded　out　of　her　face；　leaving　her　quite　pale；
with　eyes　that　began　to　blaze。　　The　suppleness　of　her　seemed　to　stiffen。

〃My　name's　Ellen　Jorth；〃　she　burst　out；　passionately。　　Does　it　mean
anythin'　to　y'u？〃

〃Never　heard　it　in　my　life；〃　protested　Jean。　　〃Sure　I　reckoned　you
belonged　to　the　sheep　raisers　who　're　on　the　outs　with　my　father。
That's　why　I　had　to　tell　you　I'm　Jean　Isbel。　。　。　。　Ellen　Jorth。
It's　strange　an'　pretty。　。　。　。　Reckon　I　can　be　just　as　good　aa
friend　to　you〃

〃No　Isbel；　can　ever　be　a　friend　to　me；〃　she　said；　with　bitter　coldness。
Stripped　of　her　ease　and　her　soft　wistfulness；　she　stood　before　him　one
instant；　entirely　another　girl；　a　hostile　enemy。　　Then　she　wheeled　and
strode　off　into　the　woods。

Jean；　in　amaze；　in　consternation；　watched　her　swiftly　draw　away　with
her　lithe；　free　step；　wanting　to　follow　her；　wanting　to　call　to　her；
but　the　resentment　roused　by　her　suddenly　avowed　hostility　held　him
mute　in　his　tracks。　　He　watched　her　disappear；　and　when　the　brown…and
…green　wall　of　forest　swallowed　the　slender　gray　form　he　fought　against
the　insistent　desire　to　follow　her；　and　fought　in　vain。



CHAPTER　II

But　Ellen　Jorth's　moccasined　feet　did　not　leave　a　distinguishable
trail　on　the　springy　pine　needle　covering　of　the　ground；　and　Jean
could　not　find　any　trace　of　her。

A　little　futile　searching　to　and　fro　cooled　his　impulse　and　called
pride　to　his　rescue。　　Returning　to　his　horse；　he　mounted；　rode　out
behind　the　pack　mule　to　start　it　along；　and　soon　felt　the　relief　of
decision　and　action。　　Clumps　of　small　pines　grew　thickly　in　spots
on　the　Rim；　making　it　necessary　for　him　to　skirt　them；　at　which
times　he　lost　sight　of　the　purple　basin。　　Every　time　he　came　back
to　an　opening　through　which　he　could　see　the　wild　ruggedness　and
colors　and　distances；　his　appreciation　of　their　nature　grew　on　him。
Arizona　from　Yuma　to　the　Little　Colorado　had　been　to　him　an　endless
waste　of　wind…scoured；　sun…blasted　barrenness。　　This　black…forested
rock…rimmed　land　of　untrodden　ways　was　a　world　that　in　itself　would
satisfy　him。　　Some　instinct　in　Jean　called　for　a　lonely；　wild　land；
into　the　fastnesses　of　which　he　could　roam　at　will　and　be　the　other
strange　self　that　he　had　always　yearned　to　be　but　had　never　been。

Every　few　moments　there　intruded　into　his　flowing　consciousness
the　flashing　face　of　Ellen　Jorth；　the　way　she　had　looked　at　him；
the　things　she　had　said。　　〃Reckon　I　was　a　fool；〃　he　soliloquized；
with　an　acute　sense　of　humiliation。　　〃She　never　saw　how　much　in
earnest　I　was。〃　　And　Jean　began　to　remember　the　circumstances　with
a　vividness　that　disturbed　and　perplexed　him。

The　accident　of　running　across　such　a　girl　in　that　lonely　place　might
be　out　of　the　ordinarybut　it　had　happened。　　Surprise　had　made　him　dull。
The　charm　of　her　appearance；　the　appeal　of　her　manner；　must　have　drawn
him　at　the　very　first；　but　he　had　not　recognized　that。　　Only　at　her
words；　〃Oh；　I've　been　kissed　before；〃　had　his　feelings　been　checked
in　their　heedless　progress。　　And　the　utterance　of　them　had　made　a
difference　he　now　sought　to　analyze。　　Some　personality　in　him；　some
voice；　some　idea　had　begun　to　defend　her　even　before　he　was　conscious
that　he　had　arraigned　her　before　the　bar　of　his　judgment。　　Such　defense
seemed　clamoring　in　him　now　and　he　forced　himself　to　listen。　　He　wanted；
in　his　hurt　pride；　to　justify　his　amazing　surrender　to　a　sweet　and
sentimental　impulse。

He　realized　now　that　at　first　glance　he　should　have　recognized　in　her
look；　her　poise；　her　voice　the　quality　he　called　thoroughbred。　　Ragged
and　stained　apparel　did　not　prove　her　of　a　common　sort。　　Jean　had　known
a　number　of　fine　and　wholesome　girls　of　good　family；　and　he　remembered
his　sister。　　This　Ellen　Jorth　was　that　kind　of　a　girl　irrespective　of
her　present　environment。　　Jean　championed　her　loyally；　even　after　he
had　gratified　his　selfish　pride。

It　was　thencontending　with　an　intangible　and　stealing　glamour；
unreal　and　fanciful；　like　the　dream　of　a　forbidden　enchantmentthat
Jean　arrived　at　the　part　in　the　little　woodland　drama　where　he　had
kissed　Ellen　Jorth　and　had　been　unrebuked。　　Why　had　she　not　resented
his　action？　　Dispelled　was　the　illusion　he　had　been　dreamily　and　nobly
constructing。　　〃Oh；　I've　been　kissed　before！〃　　The　shock　to　him　now
exceeded　his　first　dismay。　　Half　bitterly　she　had　spoken；　and　wholly
scornful　of　herself；　or　of　him；　or　of　all　men。　　For　she　had　said　all
men　were　alike。　　Jean　chafed　under　the　smart　of　that；　a　taunt　every
decent　man　hated。　　Naturally　every　happy　and　healthy　young　man　would
want　to　kiss　such　red；　sweet　lips。　　But　if　those　lips　had　been　for
othersnever　for　him！　　Jean　reflected　that　not　since　childish　games
had　he　kissed　a　girluntil　this　brown…faced　Ellen　Jorth　came　his　way。
He　wondered　at　it。　　Moreover；　he　wondered　at　the　significance　he　placed
upon　it。　　After　all；　was　it　not　merely　an　accident？　　Why　should　he
remember？　　Why　should　he　ponder？　　What　was　the　faint；　deep；　growing
thrill　that　accompanied　some　of　his　thoughts？

Riding　along　with　busy　mind；　Jean　almost　crossed　a　well…beaten　trail；
leading　through　a　pine　thicket　and　down　over　the　Rim。　　Jean's　pack
mule　led　the　way　without　being　driven。　　And　when　Jean　reached　the
edge　of　the　bluff　one　look　down　was　enough　to　fetch　him　off　his　horse。
That　trail　was　steep；　narrow；　clogged　with　stones；　and　as　full　of
sharp　corners　as　a　crosscut　saw。　　Once　on　the　descent　with　a　packed
mule　and　a　spirited　horse；　Jean　had　no　time　for　mind　wanderings　and
very　little　for　occasional　glimpses　out　over　the　cedar　tops　to　the
vast　blue　hollow　asleep　under　a　westering　sun。

The　stones　rattled；　the　dust　rose；　the　cedar　twigs　snapped；　the　little
avalanches　of　red　earth　slid　down；　the　iron…shod　hoofs　rang　on　the　rocks。
This　slope　had　been　narrow　at　the　apex　in　the　Rim　where　the　trail　led
down　a　crack；　and　it　widened　in　fan　shape　as　Jean　descended。　　He
zigzagged　down　a　thousand　feet　before　the　slope　benched　into　dividing
ridges。　　Here　the　cedars　and　junipers　failed　and　pines　once　more　hid
the　sun。　　Deep　ravines　were　black　with　brush。　　From　somewhere