d put the finishing touch to
the colts' nerves.

Kathleen herself had not uttered a word, nor had she grasped the seat
rail, even when in danger of collision. Now she sat upright, an angry
color in her cheeks, her mouth set in a straight line, and the whip
still in her hand. She met Angus' eyes with a defiant stare.

"Well?" she said.

"I didn't say anything."

"You're thinking a lot, though."

"Am I?"

"Yes, you are! And don't you say a word of it to me. I can't stand it."

"I am not going to say anything," Angus told her, and stared ahead over
the colts' ears, in which companionable fashion they drove for nearly
two miles. Then he felt her hand on his arm.

"I'm sorry, Angus. I was utterly rude. Let it go, won't you?"

"Of course," he assented. "I wasn't any too polite myself. The team
nearly got away from me."

"And then you think I shouldn't have taken the whip to Blake."

"You might have taken an ax to him for all I'd care," Angus admitted.

"Hello!" she said. "Have you had any trouble with Blake?"

"No real trouble." He told her what had occurred.

"Well, I'm glad I used the whip," she commented. "He won't be proud of
it--before his friends. Wait till I see the boys! A nice lot, sending
Blake--Blake!--to meet me." Her teeth clicked over the words. "I
suppose," she went on bitterly after a pause, "there's a black sheep in
every family. But in some families--What do you think of our family?"

Angus stared at her. He had never thought much about the Frenches, who
were outside his orbit. Being young, one side of him had at times envied
their easy life; but another side of him held for them the grim, bitter
scorn of the worker for the idler and waster. These things, however,
were far below the surface.

"I don't know your family very well," he said.

She did not press the question.

"That is so. Angus--I hope you don't mind being called that, any more
than I mind being called by my first name--we've known each other for
years, but not very well. Perhaps we'll know each other better. I'm home
for good. I'm supposed to be a young lady, now."

"Are you?" said Angus. She laughed.

"My education--polite and otherwise--is finished. That is what I mean. I
am now prepared to settle down to the serious business of life--of a
young woman's life."

"And what is that?"

"If you don't know I won't tell you. Never mind about me. Tell me about
yourself."

"Myself? Oh, I've just been living on the ranch."