“I woke quicker’n you, Johnny,” he said.  “She was just coming out of the tepee, an’ I heard something running off through the brush.  I thought mebby it was a wolverine, or a bear, an’ I didn’t move until she cried out your name an’ you jumped up.  If she had seen a bear in the fire-glow she wouldn’t have thought it was Mortimer FitzHugh, would she?  It’s possible, but it ain’t likely, though I do say it’s mighty queer why he should be in this camp alone.  It’s up to us to watch pretty close until daylight.”

“He wouldn’t be here alone,” asserted Aldous.  “Let’s get out of the light, Mac.  If you’re right, the whole gang isn’t far away!”

“They ain’t in rifle-shot,” said MacDonald.  “I heard him running a hundred yards out there.  That’s the queer thing about it!  Why didn’t they jump on us when they had the chance?”

“We’ll hope that it was a dream,” replied Aldous.  “If Joanne was dreaming of FitzHugh, and while still half asleep saw something in camp, she might easily imagine the rest.  But we’ll keep watch.  Shall I move out there?”

MacDonald nodded, and the two men separated.  For two hours they patrolled the darkness, waiting and listening.  With dawn Aldous returned to camp to arouse Joanne and begin breakfast.  He was anxious to see what effect the incident of the night had on her.  Her appearance reassured him.  When he referred to the dream, and the manner in which she had come out into the night, a lovely confusion sent the blushes into her face.  He kissed her until they grew deeper, and she hid her face on his neck.

And then she whispered something, with her face still against his shoulder, that drove the hot blood into his own cheeks.

“You are my husband, John, and I don’t suppose I should be ashamed to let you see me in my bare feet.  But, John—­you have made me feel that way, and I am—­your wife!”

He held her head close against him so that she could not see his face.

“I wanted to show you—­that I loved you—­’that much,” he said, scarcely knowing what words he was speaking.  “Joanne, my darling——­”

A soft hand closed his lips.

“I know, John,” she interrupted him softly.  “And I love you so for it, and I’m so proud of you—­oh, so proud, John!”

He was glad that MacDonald came crashing through the bush then.  Joanne slipped from his arms and ran into the tepee.

In MacDonald’s face was a grim and sullen look.

“You missed your chance, all right, Johnny,” he growled.  “I found where a horse was tied out there.  The tracks lead to a big slide of rock that opens a break in the west range.  Whoever it was has beat it back into the other valley.  I can’t understand, s’elp me God, I can’t, Johnny!  Why should FitzHugh come over into this valley alone?  And he rode over!  I’d say the devil couldn’t do that!”

He said nothing more, but went out to lead in the hobbled horses, leaving Aldous in half-stunned wonderment to finish the preparation of breakfast.  Joanne reappeared a little later, and helped him.  It was six o’clock before breakfast was over and they were ready to begin their day’s journey.  As they were throwing the hitch over the last pack, MacDonald said in a low voice to Aldous: