Page:Caroline Lockhart--The Fighting Shepherdess.djvu/93

 which there was nothing to do but wait for the potatoes to boil and for Kate. He was trying the potatoes with a fork when he raised his head sharply. He was sure he heard the rattle of rocks. A faint whoop followed. "Thank God!" He breathed the ejaculation fervently, yet he said merely as he stood in the entrance puffing his pipe as she rode up,"Got'em, I see, Katie!" "Sure. Don't I always get what I go after?" Then, with a tired laugh, "I'm disappointed; I thought you would be worried about me." He smiled quizzically. "I don't know why you'd think that." " I'll know better next time," she replied good humoredly, as she swung down with obvious weariness.

"There won't be any 'next time,' "he replied abruptly, "at least not at this season of the year."

"Oh, but I'm glad I went," she interposed hastily.

As Mormon Joe unwrapped the lead-rope from the saddle horn and took the horses away to picket, he wondered what wonderful adventure she would have to relate, for she seemed able to extract entertainment from nearly anything. By the time he returned she had removed her hat, gloves and spurs, washed her dust-streaked face, smoothed her hair, slipped on an enveloping apron over her riding clothes and had the chops frying.

The sight warmed his heart as he paused for a moment outside the circle of light which came through the entrance.

He had seen the same thing often before, but it never had impressed him particularly. Her presence in the canvas tent made the difference between home and a mere shelter. The small crumbs of bread he had cast upon the water were indeed coming back to him.