"You can't.

It wouldn't be right." And he added self-reproachfully: "I never thought of your cutting across the bench and riding down the trail back of the house.

I meant to head you off--" "It's shorter," said Jean briefly.

"I--if I can't stay, I'd rather go to town, Lite.

I don't like to stay over at Uncle Carl's." Therefore, when they reached the mouth of the coulee, Lite turned into the trail that led to town.