little while?" she asked. "I'm going to rest for a few minutes, and I would like, so much, to have company."
The old man hesitated; but the bright little face was coaxing, and the log looked soft and mossy, so he smiled and sat down, heaving a deep sigh as his tired limbs relaxed.
"Have you come far?" asked Marjorie.
"Yes, a long, a very long way," said the old man.
"And are you near the end of your journey?" asked Marjorie.
"No," the old man shook his head somberly. "There are a great many miles still to go."
"Then why don't you ride?" asked Marjorie. "There is a stage passing every little while."
The old man did not reply for a moment, and a flush crept up over his pale face. "I—I am not prepared to pay for the trip," he said, at last, passing a trembling hand across his mouth.
Marjorie bit her lip, and her hand went into her pocket to where lay a big silver dollar and a bright little five-dollar gold piece. First her fingers touched the dollar; but only for an instant, and then they closed about the gold coin; but still she hesitated, looking into the old man's
