Porter Barkley, quiet and alert, once more saw the glance which passed between these two.  Into his mind, ever bent upon the business phase of any problem, there flashed a swift conviction.  This was the girl!  Here, miraculously at hand, was the girl whom Dan Anderson had known back in the East, the girl who had sent him West, perhaps the same girl to whom her father had referred!  If so, there was certainly a solution for the riddle of Heart’s Desire.  Piqued as he was, his heart exulted.  For the time his own jealousy must be suppressed.  His accounting with Dan Anderson on this phase of the matter would come later; meanwhile he must handle the situation carefully—­literally for what it is worth.

“As I was saying,” continued Dan Anderson, “what’s a breakfast or two among friends?”

“If it is among friends,” replied Ellsworth, “and if you’ll remember that, we’ll eat with you.”

In answer Dan Anderson began to kick together the embers of the fire and to busy himself with dishes.  He was resolved to humiliate himself before this girl, to show her how absolutely unfit was the life of this land for such as herself.

Suddenly he stopped and listened, as there came to his ear the distant thin report of a rifle.  Ellsworth looked inquiringly at his host.

“That’s my friend, Tom Osby,” explained Dan Anderson, “He went out after a deer.  Tom and I came down together from the town.”

“I presume you do have some sort of friends in here,” began Barkley, patronizingly.

“I have never found any in the world worth having except here,” replied Dan Anderson, quietly.

“Oh, now, don’t say that.  Mr. Ellsworth tells me that he has known you for a long time, and has the greatest admiration for you as a lawyer.”

“Yes, Mr. Ellsworth is very fond of me.  He’s one of the most passionate admirers I ever had in my life,” said Dan Anderson.

Barkley looked at him again keenly, realizing that he had to do with a quantity not yet wholly known and gauged.

Socially the situation was strained, and he sought to ease it after his own fashion.  “You see,” he resumed, “Mr. Ellsworth seems to think that he can put you in a way of doing something for yourself up at Heart’s Desire.”

It was an ugly thing for him to do under the circumstances, but if he had intended to humiliate the other, he met his just rebuke.

“I don’t often talk business at breakfast in my own house,” said Dan Anderson.  “Do you use tabasco with your frijoles?”

“Oh, we’ll get together, we’ll get together,” Barkley laughed, with an assumed cordiality which did not quite ring true.

“Thank you,” Dan Anderson remarked curtly; “you bring me joy this morning.”

He did not relish this sort of talk in the presence of Constance Ellsworth.  Disgusted with himself and with all things, be arose and made a pretence of searching in the wagon.  Rummaging about, his hand struck one of the round, gutta-percha plates which had accompanied the phonograph.  With silent vigor he cast it far above the tree tops below him on the mountain side.