ewing by the
kitchen lamp.

There was something very sweet and gentle about Mrs. McFarlane, and the
exile took almost as much pleasure in talking with her as with her
daughter. He led her to tell of her early experiences in the valley, and
of the strange types of men and women with whom she had crossed the
range.

"Some of them are here yet," she said. "In fact the most violent of all
the opponents to the Service are these old adventurers. I don't think
they deserve to be called pioneers. They never did any work in clearing
the land or in building homes. Some of them, who own big herds of cattle,
still live in dug-outs. They raged at Mr. McFarlane for going into the
Service--called him a traitor. Old Jake Proudfoot was especially
furious--"

"You should see where old Jake lives," interrupted Berrie. "He sleeps on
the floor in one corner of his cabin, and never changes his shirt."

"Hush!" warned Mrs. McFarlane.

"That's what the men all say. Daddy declares if they were to scrape Jake
they'd find at least five layers of shirts. His wife left him fifteen
years ago, couldn't stand his habits, and he's got worse ever since.
Naturally he is opposed to the Service."

"Of course," her mother explained, "those who oppose the Supervisor
aren't all like Jake; but it makes me angry to have the papers all
quoting Jake as 'one of the leading ranchers of the valley.'"

She could not bring herself to take up the most vital subject of all--the
question of her daughter's future. "I'll wait till father gets home," she
decided.

On the fourth morning the 'phone rang, and the squawking voice of Mrs.
Belden came over the wire. "I wanted to know if Berrie and her feller got
home all right?"

"Yes, they arrived safely."

The old woman chuckled. "Last I see of Cliff he was hot on their
trail--looked like he expected to take a hand in that expedition. Did he
overtake 'em?"

"I don't hear very well--where are you?"

"I'm at the Scott ranch--we're coming round 'the horn' to-day."

"Where is the Supervisor?"

"He headed across yesterday. Say, Cliff was mad as a hornet when he
started. I'd like to know what happened--"

Mrs. McFarlane hung up the receiver. The old woman's nasty chuckle was
intolerable; but in silencing the 'phone Mrs. McFarlane was perfectly
aware that she was not silencing the gossip; on the contrary, she was
certain that the Beldens would leave a trail of poisonous comment from
the Ptarmigan to Bear Tooth. It