"Now he'll be stiff and sore to-morrow--and we've got quite a ride to make." His tone of disapproval sent a guilty feeling through Lorraine, until she remembered that a slow horse might save her from this man who was all bad,--except, perhaps, just on the surface which was not altogether repellent.

She looked around at the tiny basin set like a saucer among the pines.

Already the dusk was painting deep shadows in the woods across the opening, and turning the sky a darker blue.

Skinner rolled over twice, got up and shook himself with a satisfied snort and went away to feed.

She might, if she were patient, run to the horse when Al's back was turned, she thought.