“Don’t bother about Setter, but keep out of his way,” said Ben. “I’ve a hunch this summer will surprise some folks. Hettie, now I’ve seen you again, it’ll go harder with me to lose you for a long time.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” declared Hettie, hugging his arm. “Oh, I’m an archplotter, and I’ve got somebody wonderful to help. We’re going to keep sight of you and Nevada.”

“We! Who’s the other archplotter?’

“Ina Blaine,” whispered Hettie.

“You talk—like—like a book,” said Ben, incredulously. Yet he thrilled all over. The circumstances of the last twenty–four hours were too much for his hardened bitterness. He had softened. He could not resist Nevada and Hettie and Ina Blaine, if they persisted in this talk.

“Just you wait till you see Ina,” went on Hettie, forcibly.

“Hettie, I have seen her. I met her to–day in Hammell. She asked me to meet her here when she comes to see you.”

“Well, I never! Of all the luck! Doesn’t it prove what I hinted?”

“Hettie, it proves nothing except that Ina is as sweet, kind, good as ever. She’s heard about my downfall. She’d risk her reputation to show she still believed in her old friend.”

“Friend, nothing!” scouted Hettie, warmly. “You and Ina were sweethearts. I tell you she loves you, Ben. I know it, if no one else does.”

“For Heaven’s sake, Hettie, don’t talk nonsense!” burst out Ben, passionately. “You’ll drive me mad.”

“Don’t you love Ina still?” queried his sister, inexorably.

“Love her! Never thought—of that,” returned Ben, huskily. “No—of course not. How’d I dare? Hettie, you forget I’m a poor horse hunter, disowned by my family, disgraced, branded as an outcast and thief.”

“Hush! Here comes Ina now,” whispered Hettie. “Marvie is with her. He’s true blue, Ben, and worships you. Talk to Ina as you did to mother.”

Rising, she left Ben and went out into the moonlit lane to meet two dark figures approaching. Ben crouched there, fighting a strange wildness that threatened to master him. His mother! Hettie! They had unnerved, uplifted him. And he trembled at the approach of that slim tall figure in the moonlight.

Hettie met Ina and Marvie in the lane and led them through the gate. Ben could see clearly, himself unseen. Ina stood bareheaded, her hair waving in the slight breeze. How fair her face! She seemed intent upon Hettie’s whispers. The boy clung to her. Then Hettie said: “Come, Marvie, walk with me a little.”

Ina came slowly out of the white moonlight into the black shade. She walked as if into obscurity, holding out her hands. She bumped into the bench.

“Ben,” she whispered, breathlessly.

“Ina,” he replied.

“I was afraid you might not wait,” she went on, seating herself beside him. “I’m late.”

She bent closer to look at him, evidently with her eyes still affected by coming suddenly out of the bright moonlight. But Ben saw her eyes clearly enough. Too clearly for the composure he struggled to attain! How dark, eloquent, wonderful they shone out of her white face.