His tone and words rumbled pleasantly upon the
evening air. His talk was of the round-up. It was the talk of a man
wedded to the life of the western plains. It was the talk of a man who
is conscious of success achieved in spite of great difficulties and
trials. There was a deep note of satisfaction in all he said.

Jeff's voice sounded at intervals. A lighter note. His answers were
precise, as was his way. But they lacked the enthusiasm of the other.
It was as though his thoughts were traveling far afield, while his ears
subconsciously conveyed the other's talk to a brain ready to formulate
adequate reply.

Apparently, however, this abstraction impressed itself upon the other
at last, for presently Nan heard her father challenge him in his direct
fashion.

"Feelin' beat, eh?"

Nan pictured the steady gaze of her father's deep-set inquiring eyes as
he put the question.

"No."

The reply came without hesitation. It was simple, definite. Again the
picture presented itself to Nan. Jeff, she felt, was gazing out into
the twilight, absorbed in the thoughts which held him. She knew the
attitude. She had seen it so often before.

It was Bud's voice which broke the silence that followed.

"Guess the work's pretty tough," he said. "You don't need to fergit
you bin a mighty sick man. If you do, why, you'll be li'ble to find
yourself on Nan's hands again."

"I couldn't wish for better."

The reply had come on the instant. It must have warned even Bud that
he had found a key to the man's abstraction.

"That's so--sure."

The emphasis was unmistakable. Nan waited almost breathlessly in a
delicious condition of apprehension.

"Wher's Nan?"

Jeff's demand came sharply.

"Som'eres around inside."

"I came up to see her."

"So?"

"Yes."

The lowing of the cattle in the pastures was dying with the deepening
twilight. The calves seemed to have found their mothers and all was
contentment. Nan glad of the growing shadows. For her, obscurity the
only thing just now.

Jeff's voice again broke the silence. There was something utterly
simple in the manner of his words.

"I love Nan, Bud," he said. "I want to tell her so. If she'd marry
me, I don't guess there'd be a thing left worth asking for. But I
don't guess she will. Why should she? I'm not worth her. Gee! But I
want her bad."

Nan buried her face in her hands. Then she drew back, back, far into
the dusk of the room. But she co