ly
Louise, if one might judge from that young woman's face and voice and
manner. Not Ward, though he was perfectly unconscious of having been
weighed or measured or judged by any standard at all.

And yet, when Charlie Fox rode down to the Wolverine a week or so
later, tied his horse under the shed, and came up to the cabin as
though he knew of no better place in all the world; when he greeted
mommie as though she were something precious in his sight, and talked
with her about the things she was most interested in, and actually made
her feel as if he were immensely interested also, Billy Louise simply
could not help admiring him and liking him for his frank good-nature
and his kindness. She had never before met a man just like Charlie
Fox, though she had known many who were what Ward once called
"parlor-broke." She felt when she was with him that he had a strength
to match Ward's strength; only, this strength was tamed and trained and
smoothed so that it did not obtrude upon one's notice. It was not
every young man who would come out into the wilderness and roughen his
hands on an irrigating shovel and live a cramped, lonely life, for the
sake of a harsh, illiterate old woman like Marthy Meilke. She did not
believe Ward would do that. He would have to feel some tie stronger
than the one between Marthy and her nephew before he would change his
life and his own plans for anyone.

It was not until Charlie was leaving that he gave Billy Louise a hint
that his errand was not yet accomplished. She walked down with him to
where his horse was tied and so gave him a chance to speak what was in
his mind.

"You know, I hate to mention little worries before your mother," he
said. "Those pathetic eyes of hers make me ashamed to bother her with
a thing. But I am worried, Miss Louise. I came over to ask you if
you've seen anything of four calves of ours. I know you ride a good
deal, through the hills. They disappeared a week ago, and I can't find
any trace of them. I've been looking all through the hills, but I
can't locate them."

Billy Louise had not seen them, either, and she begged for particulars.
"I don't see how they could get away from your Cove," she said, "unless
your bars were down."

"The bars were all right. It was last Friday, I think. I'm not sure.
They were in the little meadow above the house, you see. I was away
that night, and Aunt Martha is a little hard of hearing. She wouldn't
hear anythin