----" Pen blushed and stopped. "I--I--to tell the
truth, I have to ask Sara for what I want and I don't know just how to
get round it, this time."

Jane in her turn went red. "I'll ask Oscar. I hadn't begun to break him
in on that yet. But he's been so nice lately."

Mrs. Flynn stood eying the two women. "Of all the fools, women are the
worst," she snorted. "You bet Tim never kept the purse and there never
was a happier pair than him and me. Just you wait."

As she spoke, Jim's near mother was exploring the region within her
gingham waist and finally she tugged out a chamois skin bag that bulged
with bills. "I ain't been down to the bank at Cabillo for months, and
that angel boy pays me regular as a clock. How much do you want?"

"Oh, but we can't let you pay out anything, Mrs. Flynn," protested
Penelope.

Neither Pen nor Mrs. Ames had seen Mrs. Flynn angry before. "I mustn't,
mustn't I?" she shrieked. "Who's got a better right? Who feeds him and
launders him and mends him? Don't he call me Mother Flynn? God knows I
never thought to see the day to be told I could not do for him! I expect
to be doing for him till I die and if God lets me live to spare my life,
that'll be a long time yet!"

Pen threw her arms round Mrs. Flynn and kissed her plump cheek. "Bless
your dear heart, you shall spend all you want to on Jim."

Mother Flynn sobbed a little. "God knows I'm an old fool, girls! Take
what you want and come back for more."

And thus the campaign for Jim among the farmers' wives was launched.

Neither Oscar nor Murphy had any faith in Jim's "silent campaign." But
his own quiet fervor was such that after that Sunday afternoon's talk,
both men pledged themselves to help him. Murphy was to play the part of
watchdog. Oscar was to work among the farmers.

Oscar Ames never did anything by halves. With Jane urging him from
without and his new found faith in Jim urging him from within, he turned
his ranch over to the foreman and devoted himself utterly to Jim. The
days now were busy ones in the valley as well as on the dam. Jim's
eighteen hours a day often stretched into twenty, though he sometimes
dozed in his office chair or in the automobile with Oscar, reveling in
his new-learned accomplishment, driving at a snail's pace.

During this period Pen saw him only infrequently, for she was much
occupied with Sara, who was not so well, when she was not in the valley
with Jane Ames. Even when Pen did see Jim, he talked v