d of a harsh laugh close behind her. She turned and found
herself staring into the grinning face of Montana Ike.

She was angry and not without a qualm of apprehension. This man had
become a constant caller at the farm at all sorts of odd and
unexpected moments. And his attitude was such that she thoroughly
resented him. In his vaunting, braggadocio manner he had assumed a
sort of proprietary interest in her and her affairs.

The moment she faced him, his confident attitude became more
pronounced.

"Comic, ain't it?" he suggested. Then he added, as though to assure
her of his appreciation: "Nigh as comic as a cirkis."

But all Joan's delight in the scene was gone. Her beautiful eyes were
sparkling angrily. She made up her mind then and there to be rude to
the man. She would not have him about the place.

"What do you want?" she inquired bluntly.

The boy's grin remained, but his furtive eyes opened a shade wider.

"Wot do I want? Gee! You're feelin' friendly." Then he put on a manner
he intended to be facetious. "An' me left my patch o' pay-dirt, an'
all, to pay a 'party' call. Say, Miss Golden, that ain't sassiety ways
in this yer camp."

His attempt at pleasantry went for nothing. Joan, studying the man
closely, saw that his face was flushed, and, even at that distance,
she could smell the drink he had been imbibing. She must get rid of
him, but it was not so easy to her gentle nature. However, she took a
firm stand.

"Maybe not," she said coldly. "But when people make 'party' calls they
generally do it at convenient times. I'm very busy."

The man laughed in the harsh manner she disliked and rather feared.

"Kind o' seemed busy when I got around. Y' see you was sure that busy
you didn't hear my hoss comin' along, you never see me git off him an'
leave him back ther', an' me come along over an' stand watchin' you
doin' nuthin' fer nigh fi' minutes. Oh, you're sure busy!"

Joan flushed. She knew she had lied, but to be told so by this man was
infuriating. She made no attempt to further disguise her feelings.

"I said I was busy," she cried deliberately. "Surely that should be
sufficient."

But the man had no intention of accepting his dismissal.

"It jest depends wot a feller's come around for," he said, no whit
disconcerted. "Mebbe you won't find you're busy when you heard what I
got to say." He laughed immoderately. Beasley's whisky was at work,
and he had no fear for the purpose in hand.

Suddenl