"Mr. Las Vegas, you're too late," asserted Helen, as she advanced to lay a hand on the horse.
"Ranger is mine."
Dale smoothed out the blanket and, folding it, he threw it over the horse; and then with one powerful swing he set the saddle in place.
"Thank you very much for him," said Helen, softly.
"You're welcome, an' I'm sure glad," responded Dale, and then, after a few deft, strong pulls at the straps, he continued. "There, he's ready for you."
With that he laid an arm over the saddle, and faced Helen as she stood patting and smoothing Ranger. Helen, strong and calm now, in feminine possession of her secret and his, as well as her composure, looked frankly and steadily at Dale. He seemed composed, too, yet the bronze of his fine face was a trifle pale.
"But I can't thank you--I'll never be able to repay you--for your service to me and my sister," said Helen.
"I reckon you needn't try," Dale returned. "An' my service, as you call it, has been good for me."
"Are you going down to Pine with us?"
"No."
"But you will come soon?"
"Not very soon, I reckon," he replied, and averted his gaze.
"When?"
"Hardly before spring."
"Spring?... That is a long time. Won't you come to see me sooner than that?"
"If I can get down to Pine."
"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.