e, his face to
the sky.

He wanted to keep his mind fastened lucidly on his engine problem, but
he found it impossible to put away the events of the day. Dick's bestial
voice, Charley's white, proud face, little Felicia's clinging arms,
Charley's sobs from the living tent and her bitter words concerning his
temper. These words he pondered unwillingly for some time, following
with his eye the constellations of the Great Bear. Finally he rolled on
his face with a groan. Perhaps she was right. God knew though that he'd
fought the red demon within him. After a time he rolled back. Felicia
had not wakened for her supper. She had slept straight through. It was a
great pity, he thought, that she should have seen Dick drunk, that she
should have seen him knock Charley down. He wondered if there were any
way he could make her forget it. Then with a deep flush in the starlight
he wished to God she had not seen him lose his temper like a fool.
Felicia! tender, high strung little Felicia!

At last when the stars were growing dim, Roger fell asleep. He rose at
sunrise, and went up to the ranch. Dick was lying on the adobe floor of
the tent house, evidently very sick and very cross.

"How'd I come in here? Send Charley to me!" he snarled.

"I will, like thunder, you drunken bum! You did your best to beat up
both of your sisters. I'm going to keep them at the Sun Plant until some
new arrangement can be made. The best I can do for you is to leave this
door open. Fend for yourself, hang you!" And Roger walked off to do the
milking.

When he had finished milking he glanced in at the open door of the tool
house. Dick lay where Roger had left him, staring with eyes of feverish
agony at the roof above his head. Roger, without a word, went back to
the plant. To his relief, Felicia appeared at the breakfast table, very
hungry and quite herself. But Charley was not able to get up. It seemed
as if the long years of strain had culminated in yesterday's events, and
that Charley had no will-power left.

The girl lay on Ernest's cot, the tent flap lifted beside her, with no
apparent desire save to stare at the desert dancing in heat waves
against the sky. What thoughts were passing behind those quiet brown
eyes, no one knew.

It was mid-morning when Roger went in to see her. He pulled a box up
beside the cot. "Well, old dear," he said. "How is the head?"

Charley smiled. "Sore and aching, but better than during the night. I am
so tired an