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"Would you like to take in the round-up to-day?"

Arlie flung the question at Fraser with a frank directness of

sloe-black eyes that had never known coquetry. She was washing

handkerchiefs, and her sleeves were rolled to the elbows of the

slender, but muscular, coffee-brown arms.

"I would."

"If you like you may ride out with me to Willow Spring. I have

some letters to take to dad."

"Suits me down to the ground, ma'am."

It was a morning beautiful even for Wyoming. The spring called

potently to the youth in them. The fine untempered air was like

wine, and out of a blue sky the sun beat pleasantly down through

a crystal-clear atmosphere known only to the region of the

Rockies. Nature was preaching a wordless sermon on the duty of

happiness to two buoyant hearts that scarce needed it.