Let us go out to the bench in the grove and talk there." It was still daylight in the open, but under the spreading cottonwoods shadows were obscuring the lanes.

Venters drew Jane off from one of these into a shrub-lined trail, just wide enough for the two to walk abreast, and in a roundabout way led her far from the house to a knoll on the edge of the grove.

Here in a secluded nook was a bench from which, through an opening in the tree-tops, could be seen the sage-slope and the wall of rock and the dim lines of canyons.

Jane had not spoken since Venters had shocked her with his first harsh speech; but all the way she had clung to his arm, and now, as he stopped and laid his rifle against the bench, she still clung to him.
"Jane, I'm afraid I must leave you." "Bern!" she cried.
"Yes, it looks that way.

My position is not a happy one--I can't feel right--I've lost all--" "I'll give you anything you--" "Listen, please.