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"Perhaps you don't know that I am T. J. Dunke."

"You don't say! And I'm General Grant. This lady hyer is Florence

Nightingale or Martha Washington, I disremember which."

Miss Kinney laughed. "Whichever she is she's very very tired,"

she said. "I think I'll accept your offer to see me to the hotel,

Mr. Neill."

She nodded a careless good night to the mine-owner, and touched

the horse with her heel. At the porch of the rather primitive

hotel she descended stiffly from the saddle.

Before she left the Southerner--or the Westerner, for sometimes

she classified him as one, sometimes as the other--she asked him

one hesitant question.

"Were you thinking of going out again tonight?"

"I did think of taking a turn out to see if I could find Fraser.

Anything I can do for you?"

"Yes. Please don't go. I don't want to have to worry about you. I

have had enough trouble for the present."

"Would you worry about me?" he asked quietly, his eyes steadily

on her.