mplaint--how he'd go to the Klondyke in a minute if he could only
get the ranch and Mama Joy and me off his hands--so what does Dilly do
but buy the old ranch and hire Mama Joy and me to come here and keep
house! Father, I am ashamed to say, was _abjectly_ grateful to get
rid of his incumbrances, and he--he hit the trail immediately." She
stopped and searched absently with her fingers for another spear of
hay.

"Do you know, Mr. Boyle, I think men are the most irresponsible
creatures! A _woman_ wouldn't turn her family over to a neighbor and
go off like that for three or four years, just chasing a sunbeam.
I--I'm horribly disappointed in father. A man has no right to a family
when he puts everything else first in his mind. He'll be gone three
or four years, and will spend all he has, and we--can shift for
ourselves. He only left us a hundred dollars, to use in an emergency!
He was afraid he might need the rest to buy out a claim or get
machinery or something. So if we don't like it here we'll have to
stay, anyway. We--we're 'up against it,' as you fellows say."

[Illustration: "WE--WE'RE 'UP AGAINST IT,' AS YOU FELLOWS SAY."]

Charming Billy, fumbling the latigo absently, felt a sudden
belligerence toward her father. "He ought to have his head punched
good and plenty!" he blurted sympathetically.

To his amazement Miss Bridger drew herself up and started for the
door. "I'm very sorry you don't like the idea of us being here, Mr.
Boyle," she replied coldly, "but we happen to _be_ here, and I'm
afraid you'll just have to make the best of it!"

Billy was at that moment pulling off the saddle. By the time he had
carried it from the stall, hung it upon its accustomed spike and
hurried to the door, Miss Bridger was nowhere to be seen. He said
"Hell!" under his breath, and took long steps to the house, but
she did not appear to be there. It was "Mama Joy," yellow-haired,
extremely blue-eyed, and full-figured, who made his coffee and gave
him delicious things to eat--things which he failed properly to
appreciate, because he ate with his ears perked to catch the faintest
sound of another woman's steps and with his eyes turning constantly
from door to window. He did not even know half the time what Mama
Joy was saying, or see her dimples when she smiled; and Mama Joy was
rather proud of her dimples and was not accustomed to having them
overlooked.

He was too proud to ask, at supper time, where Miss Bridger was. She
did n