went around the house, and got into the cart with the doctor.
"Starkweather's a crank," he said, as they drove off, "but he's the kind
of crank that makes you wish you were one yourself. When I see a man
like that going off with consumption, and a lot of loafers getting so
fat they crowd each other off the store boxes, I wonder what Providence
is thinking of."

"He works too hard," growled the doctor, with the savagery of science.
"What can Providence do with a man who grubs greasewood when he ought to
be in bed!"

It was moonlight when the stranger returned, and handed the packages to
Idy at the kitchen door.

"Pappy's asleep," she whispered, in answer to his inquiries; "he seems
to be restin' easy."

"Is there no one about the place but yourself and mother, Miss
Starkweather?"

Idy shook her head.

"Well, then, if you don't mind, I think I will put my horse in the barn,
and sleep in the shed here, on the hay. If you should need any one in
the night, you can call me. I haven't an idea but that your father will
be all right, but it's a little more comfortable to have some one within
call."

"Well," said Idy, dropping her hands at her sides, and looking at him in
admiring bewilderment, "if you ain't just-- Have you had anythin' to
eat?" she broke off, with sudden hospitality.

"Oh yes, thank you; I had dinner at Elsmore," laughed the young man,
backing out into the shadow. "Good-night."

Half a minute later she followed him down the walk, carrying a heavy
blanket over her arm. He had led his horse to the water-trough, and the
moonlight shone full upon him as he stood with one arm thrown over the
glossy creature's neck.

"I brought you this here blanket, Mr.--"

"Barden," supplied the young man, carelessly.

Idy sank back against the corral fence as if she were stunned.

"Barden!" she repeated helplessly. "Is your name Barden?"

"Yes."

She stood breathless a moment, and then burst out:--

"An' you're him! _you_--an' doin' this way, after the way you've
done--an' him sick--an' me talkin' to ye--an'--an'--everything!"

The two torrents of hate and gratitude had met, and were whirling her
about wildly.

The young man pushed his hat back on his head, and stared at her in
sturdy, unflinching amazement.

"My dear young lady, what on earth do you mean?" he asked quietly.

"I mean that I didn't know that you was _him_--the man that sold my
father this place, an' lied to him about the vineyard--told him