"I know you and Wils quarreled, for he told me.

An' it's a pity....

Wal, if you must go, I hope you'll come again before the snow flies.

Good-by." Columbine bade her a hurried good-by and ventured forth with misgivings.
And almost around the corner of the second cabin, which she had to pass, and before she had time to recover her composure, she saw Wilson Moore, hobbling along on a crutch, holding a bandaged foot off the ground.

He had seen her; he was hurrying to avoid a meeting, or to get behind the corrals there before she observed him.
"Wilson!" she called, involuntarily.