“But you don’t seem the same—­since Will left.”

“Neither do you, John.  You haven’t called at the rancho for—­well, about a year.”

“And then I was told to stay away even longer than that.”

“Oh, you mustn’t mind Dad.  He growls—­but he won’t bite.”

Corliss glanced up at her.  His steady gray eyes were smiling, but his lips were grave.  “Would it make any difference if I did come?”

The girl’s dark face flushed and her eyes sparkled.  “Lots!  Perhaps you and Dad could agree to stop growling altogether.  But we won’t talk about it.  I’d like to know what you are doing up here afoot?”

“Wouldn’t tell you for a dollar,” he replied, smiling.  “My horse is over there—­near the timber.  The rest of the band are at the waterhole.”

“Oh, but you will tell me!” she said.  “And before we get back to the canon.”

“I wasn’t headed that way—­” he began; but she interrupted quickly.

“Of course.  I’m not, either.”  Then she glanced at him with mischief scintillating in her dark eyes.  “Fernando told me you were talking with him this morning.  I don’t see that it has done you much good.”

His perplexity was apparent in his silence.

“Fernando is—­is polite,” she asserted, wheeling her horse.

Corliss stood gazing at her unsmilingly.  “I want to be,” he said presently.

“Oh, John!  I—­you always take things so seriously.  I was just ‘joshing’ you, as Fernando says.  Of course you do!  Won’t you shake hands?”

He strode forward.  The girl drew off her gauntlet and extended her hand.  “Let’s begin over again,” she said as he shook hands with her.  “We’ve both been acting.”

Before she was aware of his intent, he bowed his head and kissed her fingers.  She drew her hand away with a little cry of surprise.  She was pleased, yet he mistook her expression.

He flushed and, confused, drew back.  “I—­I didn’t mean it,” he said, as though apologizing for his gallantry.

The girl’s eyes dilated for an instant.  Then she laughed with all the joyous abandon of youth and absolute health.  “You get worse and worse,” she said, teasingly.  “Do go and have another talk with Fernando, John.  Then come and tell me all about it.”

Despite her teasing, Corliss was beginning to enjoy the play.  As a rule undemonstrative, he was when moved capable of intense feeling, and the girl knew it.  She saw a light in his eyes that she recognized; a light that she remembered well, for once when they were boy and girl together she had dared him to kiss her, and had not been disappointed.

“You are cross this morning,” she said, making as though to go.

“Well, I’ve begun over again, Nell.  You wait till I get Chinook and we’ll ride home together.”

“Oh, but I’m—­you’re not going that way,” she mocked.

“Yes, I am—­and so are you.  If you won’t wait, I’ll catch you up, anyway.  You daren’t put Challenge down the canon trail faster than a walk.”