"My father died a little over a year ago." "I know, Jack wrote me." "Why didn't you get my letter sooner ?" "I was on the trail." "On the trail! You are always on the trail.

Oh, the wild life you lead! I saw notices of you once or twice--always in some trouble." She looked at him smilingly but there was sadness in her smile.
"It's no fault of mine," he exclaimed.

"I can't stand by and see some poor Indian or Chinaman bullied--and besides the papers always exaggerate everything I do.

You mustn't condemn me till you hear my side of these scrapes." "I don't condemn you at all but it makes me sad," she slowly replied.
"You are wasting your life out there in the wild country--oh, isn't it strange that we should sit here?
My mind is so busy with the wonder of it I can't talk straight.

I had given up ever seeing you again----" "You're not married ?" he asked with startling bluntness.
She colored hotly.