tly suppressed by a savage glance from Bill.
"What did you signal to him for?" he continued.
"To tell him I was here, and that it was all right," returned the young girl, with a steadily rising pride and colour.
"Wot was all right?" demanded Bill.
"That I wasn't followed, and that he could meet me on the road beyond Cass's Ridge Station." She hesitated a moment, and then, with a still greater pride, in which a youthful defiance was still mingled, said: "I've run away from home to marry him. And I mean to! No one can stop me. Dad didn't like him just because he was poor, and dad's got money. Dad wanted me to marry a man I hate, and got a lot of dresses and things to bribe me."
"And you're taking them in your trunk to the other feller?" said Bill, grimly.
"Yes, he's poor," returned the girl, defiantly.
"Then your father's name is Mullins?" asked Bill.
"It's not Mullins. I--I--took that name," she hesitated, with her first exhibition of self-consciousness.<