I have provided a king among his sons'?"

He looked away across the thundrous misty depths of the canyon, and the
moonlight caught his profile as though it were etched in silver. "A
mighty valiant man," he whispered, "prudent in matters, and a man of
war."

"Jesse, I've got such a confession to make. When you settled Mr.
Trevor's estate--"

"His estates were debts, and we paid 'em. There ain't no need to fuss."

"You paid the debts. You were hard driven to meet the interest on your
mortgage."

"That's paid off now. Besides we've a clear title to our land, mother's
gravestone's off my chest, we don't owe a cent in the world, and there's
nary a worry left, except I'm sort of sorry for them poor robbers. Why
fuss?"

"You earned six thousand dollars, at goodness knows what peril. I let
you still imagine that you were poor."

"We got plenty wealth, Kate, wealth enough for--for David."

"I wanted you, Jesse, just you, I wanted poverty because you were poor.
I have been content, and now you've won the capital to free the ranch,
to buy a thoroughbred stallion, to stock the place."

"That's so."

"Jesse, under my dear father's will, I have seven thousand five hundred
dollars a year."

"A _what_!"

"I'm a rich woman, dear. I've been saving my income, and there's ten
thousand dollars for you at the bank."

So I gave him my check, which he receipted promptly with a kiss. He is
so rough, too.

Then we discussed improvements. A bunch of East Oregon horses, three
cow-boys to handle our stock, a man to run the Sky-line contract, an
irrigated corn field, and winter feed, two Chinese servants, so many
'must haves' that we waxed quite despondent over ways and means. Jesse
must go to Vancouver on business, and thus after much preamble I came at
last to the point.

"Take Billy with you."

"But if I go, he's got to look after the ranch."

Men are so stupid. When I sing to my dear bull pines, they breathe a
swaying thin echo like some distant chorus; yet at the sight of Jesse,
become impassive as red Indian chiefs. How could I tell such a man of
peril? The widow understands, and no sacrifice is too great for a
mother.

"You preach at Billy," I said, "you pray at him. Remember he's wild as
these woods, son of a dangerous felon. His mother goads him on, and
there's danger, Jesse."

I knew while I spoke the folly of appealing to any sense of fear. He
chuckled softly.

"Why, Billy daresn't say good morning to my pint