ater in her life. He had come there with
the intention of ending, one way or the other, a
friendship--_camaraderie_--whatever you please to call it, by telling
this hardy girl of the prairie the old, old story over again. He loved
this woman with an intensity that very few would have credited him with.
Who could associate lazy, good-natured, careless "Lord" Bill with
serious love? Certainly not his friends. And yet such was the case, and
for that reason had he come. The affairs of Pat Nabob were but a
subterfuge. And now he found it impossible to pronounce the words he had
so carefully thought out. Jacky was not the woman to approach easily
with sentiment, she was so "deucedly practical." So Bill said to
himself. It was useless to speculate upon her feelings. This girl never
allowed anything approaching sentiment to appear upon the surface. She
knew better than to do so. She had the grave responsibility of her
uncle's ranch upon her shoulders, therefore all men must be kept at
arm's length. She was in every sense a woman, passionate, loyal, loving.
But in addition nature had endowed her with a spirit which rose superior
to feminine attributes and feelings. The blood in her veins--her life on
the prairie--her tender care and solicitude for her uncle, of whose
failings and weaknesses she was painfully aware, had caused her to put
from her all thoughts of love and marriage. Her life must be devoted to
him, and while he lived she was determined that no thought of self
should interfere with her self-imposed duty.

At last "Lord" Bill broke the silence which had fallen upon the room
after the girl's unanswered question. His remark seemed irrevelant and
inconsequent.

"There's a horse on the other side of the muskeg. Who's is it?"

Jacky was at his side in an instant. So suddenly had she bounded from
the table, that her companion turned, with that lazy glance of his, and
looked keenly at her. He failed to understand her excitement. She had
snatched up a pair of field-glasses and had already leveled them at the
distant object.

She looked long and earnestly across the miry waste. Then she turned to
her companion with a strange look in her beautiful gray eyes.

"Bill, I've seen that horse before. Four days ago. I've looked for it
ever since, but couldn't see it. I'm going to round it up."

"Eh? How?"

Bill was looking out across the muskeg again.

"Guess I'm going right across there this evening," the girl said
quietly