“You're the first friend I've made in the West,” said Helen, earnestly.
“You'll make many more—an' I reckon soon forget him you called the man of the forest.”
“I never forget any of my friends. And you've been the—the biggest friend I ever had.”
“I'll be proud to remember.”
“But will you remember—will you promise to come to Pine?”
“I reckon.”
“Thank you. All's well, then.... My friend, goodby.”
“Good-by,” he said, clasping her hand. His glance was clear, warm, beautiful, yet it was sad.
Auchincloss's hearty voice broke the spell. Then Helen saw that the others were mounted. Bo had ridden up close; her face was earnest and happy and grieved all at once, as she bade good-by to Dale. The pack-burros were hobbling along toward the green slope. Helen was the last to mount, but Roy was the last to leave the hunter. Pedro came reluctantly.
It was a merry, singing train which climbed that brown odorous trail, under the dark spruces. Helen assuredly was happy, yet a pang abided in her breast.