ff if my dad got
in a fight?" she flashed.

"I hope you will."

"I'm a Jorth," she said, darkly, and dropped her head again.

Sprague nodded gloomily. Evidently he was perplexed and worried, and
strongly swayed by affection for her.

"Would you go away with me?" he asked. "We could pack over to the
Mazatzals an' live thar till this blows over."

"Thank y'u, Uncle John. Y'u're kind and good. But I'll stay with my
father. His troubles are mine."

"Ahuh! ... Wal, I might hev reckoned so.... Ellen, how do you stand on
this hyar sheep an' cattle question?"

"I think what's fair for one is fair for another. I don't like sheep
as much as I like cattle. But that's not the point. The range is
free. Suppose y'u had cattle and I had sheep. I'd feel as free to run
my sheep anywhere as y'u were to ran your cattle."

"Right. But what if you throwed your sheep round my range an' sheeped
off the grass so my cattle would hev to move or starve?"

"Shore I wouldn't throw my sheep round y'ur range," she declared,
stoutly.

"Wal, you've answered half of the question. An' now supposin' a lot of
my cattle was stolen by rustlers, but not a single one of your sheep.
What 'd you think then?"

"I'd shore think rustlers chose to steal cattle because there was no
profit in stealin' sheep."

"Egzactly. But wouldn't you hev a queer idee aboot it?"

"I don't know. Why queer? What 're y'u drivin' at, Uncle John?"

"Wal, wouldn't you git kind of a hunch thet the rustlers was--say a
leetle friendly toward the sheepmen?"

Ellen felt a sudden vibrating shock. The blood rushed to her temples.
Trembling all over, she rose.

"Uncle John!" she cried.

"Now, girl, you needn't fire up thet way. Set down an' don't--"

"Dare y'u insinuate my father has--"

"Ellen, I ain't insinuatin' nothin'," interrupted the old man. "I'm
jest askin' you to think. Thet's all. You're 'most grown into a young
woman now. An' you've got sense. Thar's bad times ahead, Ellen. An' I
hate to see you mix in them."

"Oh, y'u do make me think," replied Ellen, with smarting tears in her
eyes. "Y'u make me unhappy. Oh, I know my dad is not liked in this
cattle country. But it's unjust. He happened to go in for sheep
raising. I wish he hadn't. It was a mistake. Dad always was a
cattleman till we came heah. He made enemies--who--who ruined him. And
everywhere misfortune crossed his trail.... But, oh, Uncle John, my dad
is an honest man."