traight as a die!"

"Ruth," he went on, when he saw incredulity in her gaze; "I wasn't to
tell you. I reckon Lawler would half kill me if he know'd I was tellin'
you. But there ain't no use, I've got----"

"Did you give your word to Lawler, Daddy?"

"I sure did. But I've got to tell you, Ruth. Mebbe you knowin' will sort
of help me to go through with it.

"Kane Lawler was here this mornin'--he come here to see me about a
Circle L cow that I was runnin' my brand on the night before. He talked
mighty plain to me--an' earnest. He offered me a job over to the Circle
L, an' I took it. I rode over there this afternoon an' Lawler's straw
boss put me to work. Then tonight Lawler rode in an' took me out by the
corral. He gave it to me straight there. He's goin' to restock my place
an' give me a chance to get on my feet. He's goin' to put his shoulder
behind me, he says, an' make me run a straight trail--takin' a mortgage
on the place to secure him. He give me a letter to his mother, sayin' I
was to have what stock I wanted. An' I'm to repay him when I get around
to it. Honey, I've got a chance, an' I'm never goin' to slip again!"

Ruth walked to the door and threw it open, standing on the threshold and
gazing out into the dull moonlight, across the vast sweep of plain from
which came the low moaning of the night wind, laden with mystery.

For a long time, as she stood there, pride fought a savage battle with
duty. Her face was pallid, her lips tight-clenched, and shame
unutterable gripped her. To be sure, Lawler had enjoined her father to
silence, and it was evident that she was not to know. Still, she did
know; and Lawler had added an obligation, a debt, to the already high
barrier that was between them. Yet she dared not evade the obligation,
for that would be robbing her father of a chance over which he seemed to
exult, a chance which promised the reformation, for which she had
prayed.

Her heart was like lead within her--a dull weight that threatened to
drag her down. And yet she felt a pulse of thankfulness. For if her
father really meant to try--if he should succeed in redeeming himself in
Lawler's eyes and in her own, she might one day be able to go to Lawler
with no shame in her eyes, with the comforting assurance that her father
had earned the right to hold his head up among men. To be sure, there
always would be the shadow of the past mistake lurking behind; but it
would be the shadow of a mistake corrected, of