"You came to me when I was lost in the wilderness," she said, shyly. "I wanted to help you back—if—I might."
"You will help—you have!" he said, earnestly. "And I was far enough off the trail, too, but if there's any way to get back I'll get there." He grasped her hand and held it for a second. "Keep up that praying," he said. "I'll see what can be done."
Margaret looked up. "Oh, I'm so glad, so glad!"
He looked reverently into her eyes, all the manhood in him stirred to higher, better things. Then, suddenly, as they stood together, a sound smote their ears as from another world.
"Um! Ah!—"
The minister stood within the doorway, barred by Bud in scowling defiance, and guarded by Cap, who gave an answering growl.
Gardley and Margaret looked at each other and smiled, then turned and walked slowly down to where the pony stood. They did not wish to talk here in that alien presence. Indeed, it seemed that more words were not needed—they would be a desecration.
So he rode away into the sunset once more with just another look and a hand-clasp, and she turned, strangely happy at heart, to go back to her dull surroundings and her uncongenial company.
"Come, William, let's have a praise service," she said, brightly, pausing at the doorway, but ignoring the scowling minister.
"A praise service! What's a praise service?" asked the wondering Bud, shoving over to let her sit down beside him.