HE helped her over rough places and up the steep climbs. Hand in hand they ran down the slopes like two children out for play; their merry laughter ringing out, forgetful of the recent dangers through which they had passed; forgetful, too, of perilous possibilities before them. It was enough that the day was fresh, the sun was shining, their strength renewed, and they were together. Each was occupied most with the fact of the other and the day.

They ate their berries before the heat of the noon was fully come, and hurried on. But Holt could see that his companion was growing weary, for the excitement of the night before had left her shaken, and more and more she faltered and leaned heavily upon him up the hills. Then he found a quiet resting place under some trees and bade her sleep, and while she slept he hovered not far away.

He found a pool where by a skill he had long practiced he could catch some very small fish; and with due patience he at last secured enough to make a meal. Then with infinite pains and his knowledge of woodcraft, he accomplished a fire once more and cooked the fish, so that when she awoke there was dinner spread under a tree -- broiled fish, with clear water from the brook to drink.

Holt was in a hurry to get on, for he was growing uneasy about the direction they were taking. It seemed as if they were off the regular line of habitation and travel. Was it possible he had turned too much to the north and was set to enter the desert at the most remote and lonely part, where they might travel for days without meeting anyone?

He changed the direction slightly and they started on again, the young man watching the sun anxiously from time to time. And now he kept the girl's arm, touching her elbow lightly to be ready with help when it was needed. Often he drew her arm within his own and fairly lifted her over hard places; and so they came to higher ground and looked out before them once more. The sun was lower now, and growing redder as it went down with premonition of the night. The man could see that the girl's steps were slower, and that her face was pale with weariness, though she said not a word and plodded cheerfully on by his side. He could see that she looked anxiously about on all sides whenever they came to the higher ground, and knew that she was thinking all this time of her mother.

The fair, weary face and bright, determined countenance touched his heart deeply, and brought out the latent tenderness in his nature; and there arose in him a great longing to help her that made him wonder at himself.

At last as they reached another slight elevation he looked to the west and to his relief saw a small house with horses and cattle moving about in the fields. He showed it to her and her eyes lighted with joy.

"Oh, that is so good! I was worried, for I know I'm a burden. You would have gone the distance twice if you had been alone."

His hand touched her arm more reverently close. "I am glad I was not alone," he said earnestly. "And I'm glad you were not alone."

She looked up to meet his eyes and there leaped from each to the other a wonderful realization of the beauty of the companionship they had held that day.

"Yes, I am glad I was not alone," she said with deep feeling, "for, oh, it would have been dreadful! And this has been -- beautiful," she finished, and wondered at herself for speaking so freely. Then each was suddenly silent at the appalling realization that the free companionship of the day was almost at an end. They were coming to the world of convention and form again, where words and actions were weighed and motives questioned. There had been nothing of that here, for necessity and common peril had blotted them out of existence for the time, and it had been blessed. Now the thought came simultaneously to both. Would they ever see one another again and be friends?

The way wound down into a ravine, and the heavy growth of trees shadowed the path. It was rough and he guided her tenderly, respectfully, as one might guide a little child one loved. She felt his care in every step she took, and her heart responded gratefully to his gentleness. Her own father could not have been more thoughtful; and there was nothing familiar or presuming in his touch. He might have been a mother, the tenderness he showed. Perhaps Jean felt it more because she was so very tired, and realized her lonely position now that night was coming on again.

In the valley they came to the bank of a stream, deep and turbulent; and standing upon its brink, looking either way, there seemed no possible ford. How deep it was they could not guess, but there was plainly a strong current.

Holt stood a moment, surveying the barrier to their progress, walked a few steps up the bank and down, And looked up at the westering sky. Then he deliberately walked out into the stream.

The girl on the bank caught her breath but said nothing Must they swim across? Was there no other way? She watched Holt standing, strong and manly, in the middle of the stream, the water above his waist. Presently, when he had gone more than half way across he turned and came back to her.

She was white with excitement, but her lips were set and her eyes were bright with the intention of doing his bidding.

"I am sorry. There is no other way, and we must hurry, for the sun is getting low. We should reach that house before dark."

He stooped and gathered her in his strong arms, lifting her shoulder high, and stalked out into the stream before she knew what he was doing.

"Oh, please, I can walk as well as you," she deprecated.

"Put your arms around my neck, please," he commanded, and waded in, holding her high and dry above the water.

She obeyed instantly, in trust and shy wonder, and the water rose about them, but did not touch her. Once, when they were in the middle of the stream Holt's foot slipped and for an instant it seemed as though he would lose his balance, but he lifted her the higher and almost instantly recovered himself. In a moment more they had crossed the stream, and he had set her down upon the bank and was shaking the water from his garments as if it were a common thing which he had done and he enjoyed it. She looked down at herself. Not a shred of her garments was wet, while he was drenched almost to the arm-pits.

"You are all wet! " she exclaimed, conscience-stricken.

"You wouldn't expect me to keep dry in all that, would you? " he asked, with his eyes dancing. Then they laughed like two children, and a frightened chipmunk ran chattering away in the trees.

"Are you all right? " he asked solicitously. "Are you perfectly dry? " His voice was husky with emotion and his eyes tender.

"Of course I'm dry," she answered dubiously, as if half ashamed of the fact. "Why wouldn't I be when I'm treated like a baby? It seems to me, you didn't quite keep to the terms of our partnership."

"This was one of the big things," he said, "only I didn't want you to know it. To tell you the truth, I didn't know whether that stream was fordable or not; and, besides, I knew that if you got your clothes wet again it would hinder you in walking. Come, we must make that house before dark. I'm hungry, aren't you? And we're pretty sure to find bacon and corn bread at least. How does that sound?"

"Good!" she cried, laughing, and took the hand that was held out to her. Together they ran on over the rough ground toward supper and rest. But the way was longer than they thought, and Holt had not been able to calculate on the slow steps of the girl who was unused to such long tramps, nor to going without adequate food. The sun went down and the darkness was upon them before they were anywhere near the little house.

Once Jean stumbled and almost fell, and a sound like a half sob came from her throat as she clutched at his arm to save herself. It was then he picked her up like a tired child and carried her over the rough ground, until she protested so vigorously that he was forced to set her down and both stopped to rest. For, indeed Holt's own strength was somewhat spent by this time, though he showed no outward sign of fatigue, having been trained in a school that endures until it drops.

By this time they felt as if they had known each other for years, for there is nothing like a common peril and a common need to make souls know one another, and to bring out the true selfishness or unselfishness of each character. Because these two had been absolutely forgetful of self, each felt for the other a most extraordinary attraction and reverence.

As they sat silently under the stars, resting, it came to their minds how far from strangers they now seemed, and yet how little they knew about each other's lives; and they felt they needed not to know because of what each had been to the other during the night and the day that were passed.

When they started on their way again arm in arm, they walked silently for a time, marveling at what the day had brought them in knowledge of the other's fineness.

"I cannot be mistaken," thought Jean. "He is fine and noble -- all that a man ought to be. He looks as if he had never done anything wrong, yet is strong enough to kill the devil if he would."

By this time the little house in the distance had put a light in its window, and guided them twinklingly to its door, where three great dogs greeted them from afar and disputed their entrance.

The house was not very large, only three rooms. A man and his wife and some hired hands huddled around a kerosene light, the men smoking and playing cards; the wife knitting silently in the rear.

They looked up curiously to hear the stranger's story, half incredulous. They had not heard of any railroad accident. They lived twenty miles from the railroad and went to town only once a fortnight.

"This your wife? " questioned the householder of Holt.

Jean's face flamed scarlet as a new embarrassment faced her. She had not thought of proprieties until now. Of course they existed even in the wilderness. Holt explained haughtily.

"H'm!" said the man still incredulous. "Any more in your party? Wal, my woman'll take keer your woman fer t'night, an' in the mornin' we ken talk business. Yas, I've got horses, but I need 'em." The man looked cunningly from one to the other of the men. Jean looked at Holt, and thought how far above these people he seemed as he stood haughtily by the door in his wet and draggled clothing, with the bearing of a young king.

"Oh, I can pay for the horses," said Holt, "and see that they are returned, too, if that is what is the matter." And he pulled out a roll of bills and threw several carelessly on the table.

"Wal, that alters the case," said the man more suavely, "of course, fer a consideration --"

"Can we get some supper?" asked Holt, cutting him short. "We've had very little to eat all day, and this lady is tired and hungry."

The man's wife bustled forward. "Fer the land sake!" she exclaimed, "hungry this time o' night? We ain't got much ready, but there was some corn bread and po'k lef' from supper, ef they'll do. The men is powah'ful eatahs."

She set out the best her house afforded, eyeing Jean's tattered silk robe enviously between trips to the cupboard. The men went on with their card game and Jean and Holt ate in silence. The girl was beginning to dread the night and to wish for the silence of the starlit world and the protection of her strong, true friend. She did not like the look of the men who fumbled the dirty cards and cast bold glances in her direction.

She was even more frightened when she learned the arrangements that were to be made for the night. She was assigned to a bunk in a small closet-like room opening from the big room in which they were all sitting -- which appeared to be kitchen, parlor and dining-room combined, and was to be, for that night at least, sleeping room for Holt and the other men, several rolls of army blankets being the only visible provision made for their comfort.

Holt managed to get opportunity to whisper to her as the men were disputing over their game while the housewife retired to the guest chamber to "red up."

"Don't you worry," he reassured her softly. "I'll bunk across in front of your door. You can sleep and trust me."

She flashed up at him a bright, weary smile that sent a thrill of joy through him and made him feel that nothing in all life could be better than to defend this girl who trusted him.

In the early rose and gold of the morning Jean awoke to the smell of cooking ham and the sizzle of eggs frying just the other side of her thin partition, and knew that she had slept in safety under guard of her new found friend.

" Jasper! Jasper Holt!" said a strange sweet voice within her soul, and she wondered at the beauty of the name and the thrill of possession she felt in it.

Jean had a little money carefully sewed inside her clothing. It was to have done for her whole western trip and bought gifts for the dear ones at home before her return. Now she realized it was her fortune. She made a bargain with the woman of the cabin for a khaki skirt and blouse, of doubtful cut and shabby mien, but whole and clean. For these she gave two dollars and the remains of the once treasured, but now tattered and travel-stained silk robe she wore. And so it was as a Western girl, in riding skirt and blouse, that she emerged from the little closet where she had slept, but so wholly was she able to subjugate her clothes, and so exquisitely did her flower face and golden-brown hair set them off that they took on a style and beauty entirely out of their nature; and the former owner stared in wonder and sighed with envy as she beheld. It had not been the silken garment that made this girl a queen, but her own beauty of countenance and regal bearing; for here were her own old clothes worn like a royal robe, making the stranger lovely as the morning.

Holt looked at the girl in startled wonder when she appeared, so trig and sweet in her traveling garb, ready for the next stage of her journey, and trembled with joy at the day that was before him; albeit the end of the journey would bring sadness and parting, he knew. He wanted to knock down the men who stared insolently, offering audible comments on her complexion and bearing that made the swift, frightened color come to her cheeks. He ate his breakfast in haughty silence, sitting between Jean and one of the men, and shielding her as far as possible from any need of conversation save with her hostess who waited on them all and hovered admiringly round her young guest's chair with offers of molasses and mush that were fairly overwhelming.

"Any need fer a clergyman?" asked the ugliest of the three men, leaning forward across the table, his knife and fork held perpendicular each side of his plate, a large piece of ham aloft on his fork. He gave an ugly wink at the others and they laughed coarsely and meaningly.

"Yas, you could git the elder by goin' about ten mile out o' yer way," added another, and devoted himself audibly to his thick cup of muddy coffee.

Holt ignored these remarks and began asking questions of his host about the crops and the exact location of the house with regard to railroads, wondering meanwhile, if Jean understood their rough jokes, and hoping she did not.

If she did she was serene with it all, and smiled her very sweetest on her hostess, making her heart glad at the parting by the gift of a pair of cheap, but pretty, little cuff pins that had been fastened on the front of her traveling robe.

So they mounted and rode away, Jean like the queen of a girl that she was, and her companion no less noble in his bearing. The joy they felt in the day and each other was only equaled by their own shyness in speaking of it.