"We're only a little ways out," she was told, "and we'll sure get you back before the stage leaves—the victuals at the station ain't fit to eat."

A very little insistence induced Lahoma to comply, and both the young man and the former highwayman saw her go with disappointment. Kimball and his friends went into the "Dining Hall" to gulp down a hasty meal, and Wilfred entered with them. He remained only a moment, however, just long enough to purchase a number of sandwiches which he stored away, as if meaning to eat them in the coach.

As soon as he was in the single street with the door closed behind him, he darted toward the stage barn, and by means of a handsome deposit obtained two horses. Springing upon one, he rode rapidly from the settlement, leading the other, and in a short time, came in sight of a cabin, which, with its outhouses, was the only building in all the wide expanse. From its appearance he knew it to be the one described to Lahoma, and he galloped up to the door with the certainty of finding her within. The big wagon had been unhitched, and the horses were fastened to its wheels, eating from the bed.

The family was about to sit down to supper; the first to discover Wilfred as he flitted past the single window in the side of the cabin, was Lahoma. Before he could knock on the door, she had opened it.

"Oh, Wilfred!" she reproached him, "they'll miss you and know you've come to consult with me about warning Brick."

"Quick, Lahoma!" said Wilfred, as if she had not spoken, "you can ride a horse, I suppose?" He smiled, but his eyes were sparkling with impatience.

In a flash, Lahoma's face was glowing with enthusiasm. She looked back into the room and cried, "Good-by!" Then Wilfred swung her to the back of the led horse. "We'll beat 'em!" cried Lahoma, as he sprang upon his horse. "Fast as you please—I've never been left behind, yet!"

The young man noted with sudden relief that she was dressed for the hardships of the prairie. It came to him with a sense of wonder that he had not noticed that before, perhaps from never having seen her in fashionable attire. As they galloped from the cabin, from whose door looked astonished faces, Lahoma answered his thought—

"Up there," she said, nodding her head toward the East, "I dressed for people—but out here, for wind and sand."

Looking back, she saw the family running out of the cottage, waving handkerchiefs and bonnets as in the mad joy of congratulation.