late.

CHAPTER XXIII

FAITH'S FARM

Angus was riding fast for Faith Winton's ranch. Rain had fallen steadily
for two days, and was still falling. The hills were veiled to their
bases in low clouds. Mists hung everywhere, rising from little lakes,
hanging low over the bottoms, clinging to the tree-tops of the
benchlands. The rain would do good, undoubtedly, but it could not repair
the damage of the drouth.

Angus had not seen Faith for a fortnight. As he rode, head down against
the rain, half unconsciously he began to picture unimportant details. Of
course, on such a beastly day, she would be at home. There would be an
open fire, and perhaps music. Music and an open fire! The combination
suited him. Perhaps--

A live bomb landed beneath Chief's feet with an explosion of barking.
The big horse, taken by surprise, bounded and kicked. And as Angus
caught him hard with the rein and a word picked at random from a
vocabulary suited to the comprehension of western horses, he saw Faith
Winton.

She was cased against the rain in a long slicker, and a tarpaulin hat
protected her fair head. Beneath the broad brim of it her face, rosy and
clear-skinned, laughed up at him as he brought Chief up with a
suddenness which made his hoofs cut slithering grooves in the slop.

"Jehu, the son of Nimshi, rideth furiously. Also he useth vain words to
his steed."

Angus reddened, for a man's remarks to his horse are in the nature of
confidential communications.

"I didn't see you," he said, dismounting beside her.

"Melord of many acres honors the poor ranch maiden. Methought he had
forgotten her existence."

"You know better than that."

"Well, perhaps I do. I hope your flume is all right now. But of course
this rain--"

He did not undeceive her.

"I never expected to see you out on a day like this."

"Like this? Why, I never could stay in, on a rainy day. I must get out.
Good for the complexion."

"I can see the complexion part of it. I wonder if you know how becoming
that slicker hat is?"

She laughed up at him. "Of course I know. Do you think I'd wear it if I
didn't?"

"I never saw one on a girl before."

"No? They're supposed to be purely masculine, I know." She cocked the
hat on one side and sang:

"If it be a girl she shall wear a golden ring,
And if it be a boy he shall fight for his king,
With his tarpaulin hat, and his coat of navy blue
He shall pace the quarter-deck as his daddy u