bidden. The gloom of
the house and the gloom of its mistress, which darkened even the bright
spirit of little Fay, did not pervade these women. Happiness was not
among them, but they were aloof from gloom. They spied and listened;
they received and sent secret messengers; and they stole Jane's books
and records, and finally the papers that were deeds of her possessions.
Through it all they were silent, rapt in a kind of trance. Then one by
one, without leave or explanation or farewell, they left Withersteen
House, and never returned.

Coincident with this disappearance Jane's gardeners and workers in the
alfalfa fields and stable men quit her, not even asking for their wages.
Of all her Mormon employees about the great ranch only Jerd remained. He
went on with his duty, but talked no more of the change than if it had
never occurred.

"Jerd," said Jane, "what stock you can't take care of turn out in the
sage. Let your first thought be for Black Star and Night. Keep them in
perfect condition. Run them every day and watch them always."

Though Jane Withersteen gave them such liberality, she loved her
possessions. She loved the rich, green stretches of alfalfa, and the
farms, and the grove, and the old stone house, and the beautiful,
ever-faithful amber spring, and every one of a myriad of horses and
colts and burros and fowls down to the smallest rabbit that nipped her
vegetables; but she loved best her noble Arabian steeds. In common with
all riders of the upland sage Jane cherished two material things--the
cold, sweet, brown water that made life possible in the wilderness and
the horses which were a part of that life. When Lassiter asked her what
Lassiter would be without his guns he was assuming that his horse was
part of himself. So Jane loved Black Star and Night because it was her
nature to love all beautiful creatures--perhaps all living things; and
then she loved them because she herself was of the sage and in her
had been born and bred the rider's instinct to rely on his four-footed
brother. And when Jane gave Jerd the order to keep her favorites trained
down to the day it was a half-conscious admission that presaged a time
when she would need her fleet horses.

Jane had now, however, no leisure to brood over the coils that were
closing round her. Mrs. Larkin grew weaker as the August days began;
she required constant care; there was little Fay to look after; and such
household work as was imperative. Lassite