ous tumult. If she had done sore injury to Isbel what bad she
done to herself? How strange, how tenacious had been his faith in her
honor! Could she ever forget? She must forget it. But she could
never forget the way he had scorned those vile men in Greaves's
store--the way he had beaten Bruce for defiling her name--the way he
had stubbornly denied her own insinuations. She was a woman now. She
had learned something of the complexity of a woman's heart. She could
not change nature. And all her passionate being thrilled to the
manhood of her defender. But even while she thrilled she acknowledged
her hate. It was the contention between the two that caused the pang in
her breast. "An' now what's left for me?" murmured Ellen. She did not
analyze the significance of what had prompted that query. The most
incalculable of the day's disclosures was the wrong she had done
herself. "Shore I'm done for, one way or another.... I must stick to
Dad.... or kill myself?"

Ellen rode Spades back to the ranch. She rode like the wind. When she
swung out of the trail into the open meadow in plain sight of the ranch
her appearance created a commotion among the loungers before the cabin.
She rode Spades at a full run.

"Who's after you?" yelled her father, as she pulled the black to a
halt. Jorth held a rifle. Daggs, Colter, the other Jorths were there,
likewise armed, and all watchful, strung with expectancy.

"Shore nobody's after me," replied Ellen. "Cain't I run a horse round
heah without being chased?"

Jorth appeared both incensed and relieved.

"Hah! ... What you mean, girl, runnin' like a streak right down on us?
You're actin' queer these days, an' you look queer. I'm not likin' it."

"Reckon these are queer times--for the Jorths," replied Ellen,
sarcastically.

"Daggs found strange horse tracks crossin' the meadow," said her
father. "An' that worried us. Some one's been snoopin' round the
ranch. An' when we seen you runnin' so wild we shore thought you was
bein' chased."

"No. I was only trying out Spades to see how fast he could run,"
returned Ellen. "Reckon when we do get chased it'll take some running
to catch me."

"Haw! Haw!" roared Daggs. "It shore will, Ellen."

"Girl, it's not only your runnin' an' your looks that's queer,"
declared Jorth, in dark perplexity. "You talk queer."

"Shore, dad, y'u're not used to hearing spades called spades," said
Ellen, as she dismounted.

"Humph!" ejacu