. But Joan did not give way to any of these feelings in her reply.
She did the only dignified thing possible.

"You need not wait until your dissatisfaction with me overwhelms you,
Mrs. Ransford," she said promptly. "I engaged you by the month, and I
shall be glad if you will leave me to-day month." Then she added with
a shadow of reproach: "Really, I thought you were made of better
stuff."

But her attitude had a far different result to what she had expected.
She turned to go, preferring to avoid a further torrent of abuse from
the harsh old woman, when the spoon flourished in the air as the widow
of George D. swung round from her pots with an amazing alacrity.

"You ain't chasin' me out, Miss Joan--ma'm?" she cried aghast, her
round eyes rolling in sudden distress. "Why, miss--ma'm, I never meant
no harm--that I didn't. Y' see I was jest sore hearin' them sayin'
things 'bout you in the camp, an' you a-singin' made me feel you
didn't care nuthin'. An' these scallawags a-comin' around a-sassin'
you, an' a-kissin' you, sort o' set my blood boilin'. No, miss--ma'm,
you ain't a-goin' to chase me out! You wouldn't now, would you?" she
appealed. "Jest say you won't, an' I'll have the house turned sheer
upside down 'fore you know wher' you are. There, jest think of it. You
may need some un to ke'p that scallawag Buck in his place. How you
goin' to set about him without me around? I ain't quittin' this day
month, am I, miss--ma'm?"

The old woman's abject appeal was too much for Joan's soft heart, and
her smiling eyes swiftly told the waiting penitent that the sentence
was rescinded. Instantly the shadow was lifted from the troubled face.

"It was your own fault, Mrs. Ransford," Joan said, struggling to
conceal her amusement. "However, if you want to stay----Well, I must
drive into the camp before dinner, and we'll see about the little room
when I return."

"That we will, mum--miss. That we will," cried the farm-wife in
cordial relief as Joan hurried out of the room.

* * * * *

Joan drew up at Beasley's store just as that individual was preparing
to adjourn his labors for dinner. The man saw her coming from the door
of his newly-completed barn, and softly whistled to himself at the
sight of the slim, girlish figure sitting in the wagon behind the
heavy team of horses he had so long known as the Padre's.

This was only the third time he had seen the girl abroad in the camp,
and he wond