houghtfully at them and
reflected that he seemed destined to harbor suspicion of all men new
and strange to him. Above the distant village stood the darkly green
foothills leading up to the craggy slopes, and these ending in the Rim,
a red, black-fringed mountain front, beautiful in the morning sunlight,
lonely, serene, and mysterious against the level skyline. Mountains,
ranges, distances unknown to Jean, always called to him--to come, to
seek, to explore, to find, but no wild horizon ever before beckoned to
him as this one. And the subtle vague emotion that had gone to sleep
with him last night awoke now hauntingly. It took effort to dispel the
desire to think, to wonder.

Upon his return to the house, he went around on the valley side, so as
to see the place by light of day. His father had built for permanence;
and evidently there had been three constructive periods in the history
of that long, substantial, picturesque log house. But few nails and
little sawed lumber and no glass had been used. Strong and skillful
hands, axes and a crosscut saw, had been the prime factors in erecting
this habitation of the Isbels.

"Good mawnin', son," called a cheery voice from the porch. "Shore
we-all heard you shoot; an' the crack of that forty-four was as welcome
as May flowers."

Bill Isbel looked up from a task over a saddle girth and inquired
pleasantly if Jean ever slept of nights. Guy Isbel laughed and there
was warm regard in the gaze he bent on Jean.

"You old Indian!" he drawled, slowly. "Did you get a bead on anythin'?"

"No. I shot to scare away what I found to be some of your lofers,"
replied Jean. "I heard them pullin' down a calf. An' I found tracks
of two whoppin' big wolves. I found the dead calf, too. Reckon the
meat can be saved. Dad, you must lose a lot of stock here."

"Wal, son, you shore hit the nail on the haid," replied the rancher.
"What with lions an' bears an' lofers--an' two-footed lofers of another
breed--I've lost five thousand dollars in stock this last year."

"Dad! You don't mean it!" exclaimed Jean, in astonishment. To him that
sum represented a small fortune.

"I shore do," answered his father.

Jean shook his head as if he could not understand such an enormous loss
where there were keen able-bodied men about. "But that's awful, dad.
How could it happen? Where were your herders an' cowboys? An' Bill an'
Guy?"

Bill Isbel shook a vehement fist at Jean and retorted in ea