t give it to you, I am no man at all!"

CHAPTER XIII

MAINLY ABOUT CHETWOOD

When Angus came to investigate the damage wrought by the hail, he found
it very complete. There would be no grain to thresh. It turned out that
his had been the only ranch to suffer, the swath of the storm having
missed his neighbors. It seemed the climax of the bad luck which had
attended that twenty-four hours.

Jean, when she saw that her brother was absolutely determined that she
should have another year of study, gave in, knowing nothing of the money
he had borrowed. In the fortnight that elapsed before her departure, she
was very busy, not only with her own preparations, but with preserving,
pickling and mending for the ranch.

During this time Chetwood was an intermittent visitor. On these visits
most of his time was spent in Jean's vicinity. Thus, on the eve of her
departure, when she was very busy with a final batch of preserves, he
appeared in the door. In his eyes, Jean, uniformed in a voluminous blue
apron, her face flushed and her strong young arms bare, made a very
charming picture. But Jean did not know that. She was extremely hot and
somewhat sticky, and believed herself to be untidy. She felt all the
discomfort and none of the dignity of labor. Hence her greeting was not
cordial.

"I haven't time to stop," she said, indicating preserving kettle and
jars with a wave of a dripping ladle. "You had better go and find the
boys."

"Please let me stay. I like to watch you."

"I don't like being watched. You can't find much amusement in watching
me work."

"Very jolly thing, work," Chetwood observed gravely.

"Bosh!" Miss Jean returned. She eyed her guest with pardonable
irritation. "What do you know about work?" she demanded.

"Why--er--not a great deal, I'm afraid," he admitted.

"Then don't talk nonsense."

"But it isn't nonsense. I mean to say work keeps one occupied, you
know."

"I notice it keeps me occupied," Miss Jean retorted, still more
irritated by this profound observation.

"I mean one gets tired of doing nothing."

"Then why doesn't one do something?" she snapped.

Chetwood regarded her whimsically. "I'm afraid you mean me."

"Well," said Miss Jean, "I would like to see you busy at something,
instead of looking so blessed cool and--and lazy."

"Oh, I say!"

"A man who doesn't work in this country," Jean stated severely, "is out
of place."

"But a man who is out of a place doesn't work,