* *

William Stanley Winthrop, sojourning briefly but fashionably in Los
Angeles, appeared at the hospital in immaculate outing flannels. It was
several weeks after his sister's last visit there. Winthrop took the
convalescent Collie to the Moonstone Rancho in his car.

Bud Light and Billy Dime accidentally met the car in the valley and
accompanied it vigorously through Moonstone Canon.

Aunt Eleanor and Walter Stone were at the gate. Collie was helped to the
house and immediately taken to the guest-room. He was much fatigued with
the journey. The question in his eyes was answered by Aunt Eleanor.
"Louise rode over to the north range to-day. She should be back now."

Winthrop scarce needed an introduction. He was Anne Marshall's brother.
That was sufficient for the host and hostess. He was made welcome--as he
was wherever he went. He had heard a great deal, from his sister, of the
Stones, and their beautiful niece, Louise Lacharme. He was enthusiastic
about the Moonstone Canon. He grew even more enthusiastic after meeting
Louise.

She came riding her black pony Boyar down the afternoon hillside--a
picture that he never forgot. Her gray sombrero hung on the saddle-horn.
Her gloves were tucked in her belt. She had loosened the neck of her
blouse and rolled back her sleeves, at the spring above, to bathe her
face and arms in the chill overflow. Her hair shone with a soft golden
radiance that was ethereal in the flicker of afternoon sunlight through
the live-oaks. From her golden head to the tip of her small riding-boot
she was a harmony of vigor and grace, of exquisite coloring and
infinite charm.

Her naturalness of manner, her direct simplicity, was almost, if not
quite, her greatest attraction, and a quality which Winthrop fully
appreciated.

"I have been quite curious about you, Mr. Winthrop," she said. "You are
quite like Anne. I adore Anne. Shall we turn Boyar into the corral?"

If William Stanley Winthrop had had any idea of making an impression, he
forgot it. The impression Louise was unconsciously making straightway
absorbed his attention.

"Yes, indeed! Turn him into the corral--turn him into _anything_, Miss
Lacharme. You have the magic. Make another admirer of him."

"Thank you, Mr. Winthrop. But Boyar could hardly be improved."

"You trained him, didn't you?" queried Winthrop.

Louise laughed. "Yes. But he was well-bred to begin with."

Winthrop ejaculated a mental "Ouch!" Simplicity did n