fence watching her with mild curiosity. Her father addressed another
one somewhat differently attired who stood in the door of the office.

"There is a hotel here, but they couldn't take you in," said the man.
"Party of timber-right prospectors came along, and they're kind of
frolicsome. They might find you a berth on the verandah, but I don't
know that it would suit the lady. It mixes things up considerable when
you bring a woman."

Deringham glanced at his daughter, and the girl laughed. "Then is
there any means of getting on to Cedar Valley?" she said.

The man slowly shook his head. "You might walk, but it's close on
forty miles," he said. "Stage goes out on Saturday."

Deringham made a gesture of resignation. "I never walked forty miles
at once in my life," he said. "Can you suggest anything at all? We
cannot well live here on the platform until Saturday."

"No," said the man gravely. "I don't figure I could let you. Well,
now I wonder if Harry could find room for you."

He shouted, and a man who was carrying a flour-bag turned his head and
then went on again until he hove his load into a two-horse wagon, while
Miss Deringham noticed that although the bag was stamped 140 lbs. the
man trotted lightly across the metals and ballast with it upon his
shoulders. Then he came in their direction, and she glanced at him
with some curiosity as he stood a trifle breathless before them. He
wore a blue shirt burst open at the neck which showed his full red
throat, and somewhat ragged overalls. The brown hair beneath his broad