“I’m not believin’ that till I know,” replied the hunter, gloomily.  “But I’m afraid of him....  I’ve known bad men to change.  There’s a grain of good in all men—­somethin’ divine.  An’ it comes out now an’ then.  Men rise on steppin’-stones of their dead selves to higher things!...  This is Belllounds’s chance for the good in him.  If it’s not there he will do as you say.  If it is—­that scare he had will be the turnin’-point in his life.  I’m hopin’, but I’m afraid.”

“Ben, you wait and see,” said Moore, earnestly.  “Heaven knows I’m not one to lose hope for my fellowmen—­hope for the higher things you’ve taught me....  But human nature is human nature.  Jack can’t give Collie up, just the same as I can’t.  That’s self-preservation as well as love.”

* * * * *

The day came when Wade walked down to White Slides.  There seemed to be a fever in his blood, which he tried to convince himself was a result of his wounds instead of the condition of his mind.  It was Sunday, a day of sunshine and squall, of azure-blue sky, and great, sailing, purple clouds.  The sage of the hills glistened and there was a sweetness in the air.

The cowboys made much of Wade.  But the old rancher, seeing him from the porch, abruptly went into the house.  No one but Wade noticed this omission of courtesy.  Directly, Columbine appeared, waving her hand, and running to meet him.

“Dad saw you.  He told me to come out and excuse him....  Oh, Ben, I’m so happy to see you!  You don’t look hurt at all.  What a fight you had!...  Oh, I was sick!  But let me forget that....  How are you?  And how’s Wils?”

Thus she babbled until out of breath.

“Collie, it’s sure good to see you,” said Wade, feeling the old, rich thrill at her presence.  “I’m comin’ on tolerable well.  I wasn’t bad hurt, but I bled a lot.  An’ I reckon I’m older ‘n I was when packin’ gun-shot holes was nothin’.  Every year tells.  Only a man doesn’t know till after....  An’ how are you, Collie?”

Her blue eyes clouded, and a tremor changed the expression of her sweet lips.

“I am unhappy, Ben,” she said.  “But what could we expect?  It might be worse.  For instance, you might have been killed.  I’ve much to be thankful for.”

“I reckon so.  We all have....  I fetched a message from Wils, but I oughtn’t tell it.”

“Please do,” she begged, wistfully.

“Well, Wils says, tell Collie I love her every day more an’ more, an’ that my love keeps up my courage an’ my belief in God, an’ if she ever marries Jack Belllounds she can come up to visit my grave among the columbines on the hill.”

Strange how Wade experienced comfort in thus torturing her!  She was rosy at the beginning of his speech and white at its close.  “Oh, it’s true! it’s true!” she whispered.  “It’ll kill him, as it will me!”

“Cheer up, Columbine,” said Wade.  “It’s a long time till August thirteenth....  An’ now tell me, why did Old Bill run when he saw me comin’?”