himself that if in the action there had been any desire to champion
Betty he had not been conscious of it. It angered him to think that
she should presume to imagine such a thing. And yet he had felt a
throb of emotion when she had thanked him--a reluctant, savage,
resentful satisfaction which later changed to amusement. If she
believed he had thrashed Taggart in defense of her, let her continue to
believe that. It made no difference one way or another. But he would
take good care to see that she should have no occasion to thank him
again. She did not interfere with the work, which went steadily on.
The ranchhouse began to take on a prosperous appearance. Within a week
after the beginning of the work the sills were all in, the rotted
bottoms of the studding had been replaced, and the outside walls
patched up. During the next week the old porches were torn down and
new ones built in their places. At the end of the third week the roof
had been repaired, and then there were some odds and ends that had to
be looked to, so that the fourth week was nearly gone when Dade and
Calumet cleared up the debris. It was Dade who, in spite of Calumet's
remonstrances, went inside to announce the news to Betty, and she came
out with him and looked the work over with a critical, though
approving, eye. Calumet was watching her, and when she had concluded
her inspection she turned to him with a smile.

"Tomorrow you can go to Lazette and get some paint," she said.

"Want it done up in style, eh?"

"Of course," she returned; "why not?"

"That's it," he growled; "why not? You don't have to do the work."

She laughed. "I should dislike to think you are lazy."

He flushed. "I reckon I ain't none lazy." He could think of nothing
else to say. Her voice had a taunt in it; her attack was direct and
merciless. She looked at Dade, whose face was red with some emotion,
but she spoke to Calumet.

"I don't think you ought to complain about the work," she said. "You
were to do it alone, but on my own responsibility I gave you Dade."

"Pitied me, I reckon," he sneered.

"Yes." Her gaze was steady. "I pity you in more ways than one."

"When did you think I needed any pity?" he demanded truculently,
angered.

"Oh," she said, in pretended surprise, "you are in one of your moods
again! Well, I am not going to quarrel with you." She turned abruptly
and entered the house, and Calumet fell to kicking savagely into a
hummock wit