nk, in
unquestioning faith in the bureau that was to be part of the ranch
equipment, took the "raw edge," as it were, off the desk. A bunch of
prairie flowers, flaming cactus blossoms in scarlet and yellow, ox-eyed
daisies, white clematis from the creek, seemed none the less decorative
for the tin cup that held them. Mary grimly told herself that her school
was to have refining influences, even if it had no furniture.

The books, pencils, and paper arranged in decorous little piles, Miss
Carmichael announced to her patroness that school was ready to open. Mrs.
Yellett, who had never heard that "a soft voice is an excellent thing in
woman," and whose chest-notes were not unlike those of a Durham in
sustained volume of sound, made the valley of the Wind River echo with the
summons of the pupils to school, upon which the teacher herself was
overcome by the absurdity of the situation and had barely time to escape
back of the willows, where she laughed till she cried.

As the pupils trooped obediently to school, Mary noted that they carried
no flowers to their dear teacher, but that Ben, the oldest pupil,
twenty-one years old, six feet four inches in height and deeply saturnine
in manner, carried a six-shooter in his cartridge-belt. The teacher felt
that she was the last to deny a pupil any reasonable palliative of the
tedium of class-hours--the nearness of her own school-days inclined her to
leniency in this particular--but she was hardly prepared to condone a
six-shooter, and confided her fears to Mrs. Yellett, who received them
with the indulgent tolerance a strong-minded woman might extend to the
feminine flutter aroused by a mouse. She explained that Ben did not shoot
for "glory," but to defend the herd from the casual calls of
mountain-lions, bears, and coyotes. Jack and Ned, who were very nearly as
tall as their older brother, carried similar weapons. Mary prayed that a
fraternal spirit might dwell among her pupils.

The Misses Yellett were hardly less terrifying than their brothers. They
had their father's fierce, hawklike profile, softened by youth, and the
appalling height and robustness due to the freedom and fresh air of a
nomadic existence. Their costumes might, Mary thought, have been fashioned
out of gunny-sacks by the simple expedient of cutting holes for the head
and arms. The description of the dress worn by the charcoal-burner's
daughter in any mediaeval novel of modern construction would approximate
fai