Brand Blotters

She explained the circumstances after she had moved forward to warm

herself by the fire. For already night was bringing a chill breeze with

it. The man cooking the coffee looked up and nodded pleasantly, continuing

his work. Norris dragged up a couple of saddle blankets and spread them on

the ground for her to sit upon.

"You don't have to do a thing but boss this outfit," he told her with his

gay smile. "You're queen of the range to-night, and we're your herders or

your punchers, whichever you want to call us. To-morrow morning two of us

are going to drive these sheep on to the trading post for you, and the

other one is going to see you safe back home. It's all arranged."

They were as good as his word. She could not move from her place to help

herself. It was their pleasure to wait upon her as if she had really been

a queen and they her subjects. Melissy was very tired, but she enjoyed

their deference greatly. She was still young enough to find delight in the

fact that three young and more or less good-looking men were vying with

each other to anticipate her needs.

Like them, she ate and drank ravenously of the sandwiches and the strong

coffee, though before the meal was over she found herself nodding

drowsily. The tactful courtesy of these rough fellows was perfect. They

got the best they had for her of their blankets, dragged a piñon root to

feed the glowing coals, and with cheerful farewells of "Buenos Noches"

retired around a bend in the cañon and lit another fire for themselves.

The girl snuggled down into the warmth of the blankets and stretched her

weary limbs in delicious rest. She did not mean to go to sleep for a long

time. She had much to think about. So she looked up the black sheer cañon

walls to the deep blue, starry sky above, and relived her day in memory.

A strange excitement tingled through her, born of shame and shyness and

fear, and of something else she did not understand, something which had

lain banked in her nature like a fire since childhood and now threw forth

its first flame of heat. What did it mean, that passionate fierceness with

which her lips had clung to his? She liked him, of course, but surely

liking would not explain the pulse that her first kiss had sent leaping

through her blood like wine. Did she love him?

Then why did she distrust him? Why was there fear in her sober second

thought of him? Had she done wrong? For the moment all her maiden defenses

had been wiped out and he had ridden roughshod over her reserves. But

somewhere in her a bell of warning was ringing. The poignant sting of sex

appeal had come home to her for the first time. Wherefore in this frank

child of the wilderness had been born a shy shame, a vague trembling for

herself that marked a change. At sunrise she had been still treading gayly

the primrose path of childhood; at sunset she had entered upon her

heritage of womanhood.