For a long minute the two gazed deep into each other's eyes, and the
sense of quickening blood touched Rhoda's heart. Then they both woke to
the sound of hoof-beats behind them and John DeWitt, with a wildcat
thrown across his saddle, rode up.

"Hello! I've shouted one lung out! I thought you people were
petrified!" He looked curiously from Rhoda's white face to Cartwell's
inscrutable one. "Do you think you ought to have attempted this trip,
Rhoda?" he asked gently.

"Oh, we've taken it very slowly," answered the Indian. "And we are going
to turn back now."

"I don't think I've overdone," said Rhoda. "But perhaps we have had
enough."

"All right," said Cartwell. "If Mr. DeWitt will change places with me,
I'll ride on to the ditch and he can drive you back."

DeWitt assented eagerly and, the change made, Cartwell lifted his hat and
was gone. Rhoda and John returned in a silence that lasted until DeWitt
lifted Rhoda from the buggy to the veranda. Then he said:

"Rhoda, I don't like to have you go off alone with Cartwell. I wish you
wouldn't."

Rhoda smiled.

"John, don't be silly! He goes about with Katherine all the time."