n orphaned calf. Sometimes
they're strays that haven't been branded. But in this case a bear had
killed the calf's mother in a _coulee_. She had tried to fight Mr. Bear,
of course, or he never would have killed her at that time of year. Bears
aren't dangerous unless they're hungry."

"My! but they look dangerous enough--at the zoo," observed Flossie.

"I tell ye," said Helen, reflectively, "that was a pretty calf. And I was
little, and I hated to hear them blat when the boys burned them----"

"Burned them! Burned little calves! How cruel! What for?"

These were some of the excited comments. And in spite of Belle and
Hortense, most of the visitors were now interested in the Western girl's
narration.

"They have to brand 'em, you see," explained Helen. "Otherwise we never
could pick our cattle out from other herds at the round-up. You see, on
the ranges--even the fenced ranges--cattle from several ranches often get
mixed up. Our brand is the Link-A. Our ranch was known, in the old days,
as the 'Link-A.' It's only late years that we got to calling it Sunset
Ranch."

"Sunset Ranch!" cried Miss Van Ramsden, quickly. "Haven't I heard
something about _that_ ranch? Isn't it one of the big, big cattle and
horse-breeding ranches?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Helen, slowly, fearing that she had unwittingly got
into a blind alley of conversation.

"And your father owns _that_ ranch?" cried Miss Van Ramsden.

"My--my father is dead," said Helen. "I am an orphan."

"Oh, dear me! I am so sorry," murmured the wealthy young lady.

But here Belle broke in, rather scornfully:

"The child means that her father worked on that ranch. She has lived there
all her life. Quite a rude place, I fawncy."

Helen's eyes snapped. "Yes. He worked there," she admitted, which was true
enough, for nobody could honestly have called Prince Morrell a sluggard.

"He was--what you call it--a cowpuncher, I believe," whispered Belle, in
an aside.

If Helen heard she made no sign, but went on with her story.

"You see, it was _such_ a pretty calf," she repeated. "It had big blue
eyes at first--calves often do. And it was all sleek and brown, and it
played so cunning. Of course, its mother being dead, I had a lot of
trouble with it at first. I brought it up by hand.

"And I tied a broad pink ribbon around its neck, with a big bow at the
back. When it slipped around under its neck Bozie would somehow get the
end of the ribbon in its mouth, and chew, and