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"I am his clerk." In the car a flash of joy and then great decorum.

"My dear madam, you don't realize ours. We don't want to imprison women."

"Good-evening," replied the nearer man. "How far is it to camp--Austin's?"

We came as close to them as was wise, and had to walk our horses. I could discern Miss Rothvelt's features once more, and felt a truer deference than I had yet given her. Near the blacksmith's shop, in the dusk of some shade-trees, she once more touched my shoulder. I turned resentfully to bid her not do it, but her shadowy gaze stopped me.

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