three friendly humans.
Yes ma-am, he had been glad to learn that Bertram was doing well in
the city. He had five sons, all doing well. He'd risked letting Bert
try college, and it had turned out all right. There wasn't much more
left in the cattle business; but he was an old dog to learn new
tricks. If he had it to do over again, he'd try fruit in the Santa
Clara Valley, just like they had done.

As the afternoon wore away bringing its callers, its telephone
messages and its consultations of doctors, his mood shifted to
uneasiness. He spent an hour walking back and forth in the garden.
Just before dinner-time he approached Mrs. Tiffany and Kate, who were
sewing in the living-room, and said simply:

"Well, I guess I've got to be going."

"Why, we're just getting acquainted!" cried Kate.

Mrs. Tiffany merely flickered an eyelash at the assumption of
privilege which this implied. But she answered, after a moment, "We
should like to have you stay. Even at that, don't consider us when it
is a case of being near your son."

"Well," answered the older Chester, ponderously, "you see it ain't
like I had only this one son and hadn't been through trouble. There's
Bob now. I worried quite a lot more than was necessary when the
Artiguez outfit shot him up, but he pulled through. And after Pete
got scrambled by a riata, and a few more things of that kind happened,
I stopped worrying any more than was necessary. He'll get well, and
you're handling him fine. You've been blame good to the boy," he said;
and the touch of sentimental softness in his voice showed how genuine
was his hardly expressed gratitude. He began talking rapidly, as
though ashamed of it. He hoped they all could come to see him on the
ranch some time, though there wasn't much there to attract a lady.
Still, the boys had pretty good times now and then. If the Tiffanys
liked fresh venison, the boys always got some deer in the season.

"It's lovely down there, I know. Bertram--your son--has told me so
much about it!" broke in Kate.

"We'd like to see you, too," said Mr. Chester. Then, catching the
implication, embarrassed by it, he retreated to his room and came back
in an incredibly short time with his valise. He had turned toward the
door when Mrs. Tiffany said:

"I think Bertram is well enough so that you might see him again."

"Oh, sure," replied Mr. Chester, as recalling a neglected trifle. He
dropped his valise and strode back to the sick-room for a shor