once aroused, would be hard to resist. Helen imagined she should
hold to her tone of reproach and severity.

"Sure it's true," cried Bo, fiercely. "But what's my fooling got to do
with the--the rest you said? Nell, are you keeping things from me?"

"My dear, I never get any encouragement to tell you my troubles."

"But I've--I've nursed uncle--sat up with him--just the same as you,"
said Bo, with quivering lips.

"Yes, you've been good to him."

"We've no other troubles, have we, Nell?"

"You haven't, but I have," responded Helen, reproachfully.

"Why--why didn't you tell me?" cried Bo, passionately. "What are they?
Tell me now. You must think me a--a selfish, hateful cat."

"Bo, I've had much to worry me--and the worst is yet to come," replied
Helen. Then she told Bo how complicated and bewildering was the
management of a big ranch--when the owner was ill, testy, defective in
memory, and hard as steel--when he had hoards of gold and notes, but
could not or would not remember his obligations--when the neighbor
ranchers had just claims--when cowboys and sheep-herders were
discontented, and wrangled among themselves--when great herds of cattle
and flocks of sheep had to be fed in winter--when supplies had to be
continually freighted across a muddy desert and lastly, when an enemy
rancher was slowly winning away the best hands with the end in view of
deliberately taking over the property when the owner died. Then Helen
told how she had only that day realized the extent of Carmichael's
advice and help and labor--how, indeed, he had been a brother to
her--how--

But at this juncture Bo buried her face in Helen's breast and began to
cry wildly.

"I--I--don't want--to hear--any more," she sobbed.

"Well, you've got to hear it," replied Helen, inexorably "I want you to
know how he's stood by me."

"But I hate him."

"Bo, I suspect that's not true."

"I do--I do."

"Well, you act and talk very strangely then."

"Nell Rayner--are--you--you sticking up for that--that devil?"

"I am, yes, so far as it concerns my conscience," rejoined Helen,
earnestly. "I never appreciated him as he deserved--not until now. He's
a man, Bo, every inch of him. I've seen him grow up to that in three
months. I'd never have gotten along without him. I think he's fine,
manly, big. I--"

"I'll bet--he's made love--to you, too," replied Bo, woefully.

"Talk sense," said Helen, sharply. "He has been a brother to me. But,
Bo Rayner,