by the sun-hat.

"Don't be so ready to credit me with virtues I do not possess. We
women are curious. Curiosity is one of our most pronounced features.
Poor souls--their home is gone. Utterly--utterly gone. Oh, Mr.
Tresler, what are we to do? We cannot remain silent, and yet--we don't
know. We can prove nothing."

"And what has become of them--I mean Mrs. Orr and her daughter?"
Tresler asked, for the moment ignoring the girl's question.

"They have gone into Forks."

"And food and money?"

"I have seen to that." Diane shrugged her shoulders to make light of
what she had done, but Tresler would not be put off.

"Bless you for that," he said, with simple earnestness. "I knew I was
right." Then he reverted abruptly to her question. "But we can do
something; the sheriff has come to Forks."

"Yes, I know." Diane's tone suddenly became eager, almost hopeful.
"And father knows, and he is going to send in a letter to
Fyles--Sheriff Fyles is the great prairie detective, and is in charge
of Forks--welcoming him, and inviting him out here. He is going to
tell him all he knows of these rustlers, and so endeavor to set him on
their track. Father laughs at the idea of the sheriff catching these
men. He says that they--the rustlers--are no ordinary gang, but clever
men, and well organized. But he thinks that if he gets Fyles around it
will save his property."

"And your father is wise. Yes, it will certainly have that effect; but
I, too, have a little idea that I have been working at, and--Miss
Marbolt, forgive the seeming impertinence, but I want to discuss Jake
again; this time from a personal point of view. You dislike Jake;
more, you have shown me that you fear him."

The girl hesitated before replying. This man's almost brusque manner
of driving straight to his point was somewhat alarming. He gave her no
loophole. If she discussed the matter with him at all it must be
fully, or she must refuse to answer him.

"I suppose I do fear him," she said at last with a sigh. Then her face
suddenly lit up with an angry glow. "I fear him as any girl would fear
the man who, in defiance of her expressed hatred, thrusts his
attentions upon her. I fear him because of father's blindness. I fear
him because he hopes in his secret heart some day to own this ranch,
these lands, all these splendid cattle, our fortune. Father will be
gone then. How? I don't know. And I--I shall be Jake's slave. These
are the reasons why I fear Jake, Mr.