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Larry Neill watched him vanish and then turned smiling to Miss

Kinney.

"All aboard for the Mal Pais," he sang out cheerfully.

Too cheerfully perhaps. His assurance that all was well between

them chilled her manner. He might forgive himself easily if he

was that sort of man; she would at least show him she was no

party, to it. He had treated her outrageously, had manhandled her

with deliberate intent to insult. She would show him no one alive

could treat her so and calmly assume to her that it was all

right.

Her cool eyes examined the horse, and him.

"I don't quite see how you expect to arrange it, Mr. Neill. That

is your name, isn't it?" she added indifferently.

"That's my name--Larry Neill. Easiest thing in the world to

arrange. We ride pillion if it suits you; if not, I'll walk."

"Neither plan suits me," she announced curtly, her gaze on the

far-away hills.