insisted Uncle Jepson. He turned a
vindictive eye on his niece. "If I'd have been fifty year younger I'd
have give that Chavis a durn good thrashin' for sayin' what he did to you
about pretty gals. Durn his hide, anyhow! That there Wil--"

"I felt that way myself, at first," smiled Ruth. "Afterwards, though, I
felt differently. I suppose they were glad to see the new owner. Perhaps
they haven't seen a lady in a long time."

"There's ways of showin' gladness," contended Uncle Jepson. "I cal'late
if I wanted to compliment a girl, I wouldn't look at her like I wanted to
carry her off to the mountains."

"Jep, they're only cowboys--they don't know any different," remonstrated
Aunt Martha.

"They don't, eh?" sniffed Uncle Jepson. "I cal'late that feller, Rex
Randerson, is some different, ain't he? There's a gentleman, Ruth. You
didn't see him makin' no ox-eyes. An' I'll bet you wouldn't ketch him
gettin' thick with them two plug-uglies out there!"

Ruth turned away, smiling tolerantly, after having caught a glimpse of
Aunt Martha's brows, uplifted in resignation. She was as fully aware of
Uncle Jepson's dislike of Willard Masten as she was of Uncle Jepson's
testiness and of his habit of speaking his thoughts without reservation.

Also, she had always avoided opposing him. It did not seem to be worth
while. He had been left destitute, except for the little farm back near
Poughkeepsie which he had sold at her request to accompany her here, and
she felt that habits of thought and speech are firmly fixed at
sixty-nine, and argument cannot shake them.

That first day at the ranchhouse was the beginning of a new existence for
Ruth. Bound for years by the narrow restrictions and conventionality of
the Poughkeepsie countryside, she found the spaciousness and newness of
this life inviting and satisfying. Here there seemed to be no limit,
either to the space or to the flights that one's soul might take, and in
the solemn grandeur of the open she felt the omnipotence of God and the
spell of nature.

She had plenty of time after the first day to hold communion with the
Creator. Masten was rarely near her. His acquaintance with Pickett and
Chavis seemed destined to develop into friendship. He rode much with
them--"looking over the range," he told her--and only in the evening did
he find time to devote to her.

Wes Vickers returned from Red Rock on the morning following Ruth's
arrival. Apparently, in spite of Randerson's predic