He jumped up contritely.  “That’s right.  What a goat I am!”

His long, clean stride carried him over the distance that separated him from his bronco.  Out of the saddle-bags he drew some sandwiches wrapped in a newspaper.

“Here, Miss Margaret!  You begin on these.  I’ll have coffee ready in two shakes of a cow’s tail.  And what do you say to bacon?”

He understood her to remark from the depths of a sandwich that she said “Amen!” to it, and that she would take everything he had and as soon as he could get it ready.  She was as good as her word.  He found no cause to complain of her appetite.  Bacon and sandwiches and coffee were all consumed in quantities reasonable for a famished girl who had been tramping actively for a day and a night, and, since she was a child of impulse, she turned more friendly eyes on him who had appeased her appetite.

“I suppose you are a cowboy like everybody else in this country?” she ventured amiably after her hunger had become less sharp.

“No, I belong to the government reclamation service.”

“Oh!” She had a vague idea she had heard of it before.  “Who is it you reclaim?  Indians, I suppose.”

“We reclaim young ladies when we find them wandering about the desert,” he smiled.

“Is that what the government pays you for?”

“Not entirely.  Part of the time I examine irrigation projects and report on their feasibility.  I have been known to build dams and bore tunnels,”

“And what of the young ladies you reclaim?  Do you bore them?” she asked saucily.

“I understand they have hitherto always found me very entertaining,” he claimed boldly, his smiling eyes on her.

“Indeed!”

“But young ladies are peculiar.  Sometimes we think we’re entertaining them when we ain’t.”

“I’m sure you are right.”

“And other times they’re interested when they pretend they’re not.”

“It must be comforting to your vanity to think that,” she said coldly.  For his words had recalled similar ones spoken by him twenty-four hours earlier, which in turn had recalled his unpardonable sin.

The lieutenant of rangers appeared over the hill and descended into the draw.  Miss Kinney went to meet him.

“He got away?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am.  I lost him in some of these hollows, or rather I never found him.  I’m going to take my hawss and swing round in a circle.”

“What are you going to do with me?” she smiled.

“I been thinking that the best thing would be for you to go to the Mal Pais mines with Mr. Neill.”

“Who is Mr. Neill?”

“The gentleman over there by the fire.”

“Must I go with him?  I should feel safer in your company, lieutenant.”

“You’ll be safe enough in his, Miss Kinney.”

“You know me then?” she asked.

“I’ve seen you at Fort Lincoln.  You were pointed out to me once as a new teacher.”