's outfit along, too, an' when they git
yo' onloaded they're a-goin' to work on the upper pasture fence. When
Pa gits sot on a thing he goes right ahead an' does hit. Some thinks
he's lazy, but hit hain't thet. He's easy goin'--all the Wattses
wus--but when they git sot on a thing all kingdom come cain't stop 'em
a-doin' hit. Trouble with Pa is he's got sot on settin'." Ma Watts
talked on and on, and at the conclusion of the meal Patty drew a bill
from her purse. But the woman would have none of it. "No siree, we-all
hain't a-runnin' no _hotel_. Folks is welcome to come when they like
an' stay as long as they want to, an' we're glad to hev 'em. Yer
cayuse is a-waitin' out yender. The boys saddled him up fer yo'. Come
down an' take pot luck whenever yo're a mind. Microby Dandeline, she
ketched up Gee Dot an' went a-taggin' 'long fer to help yo' git
settled. Ef she gits in the way jist send her home. Foller up the
crick," she called, as Patty mounted her horse. "Yo' cain't miss the
sheep camp, hit's about a mild 'bove the upper pasture."

Watts and the boys were just finishing the unloading of her supplies
when Patty slipped from her horse and surveyed the little cabin with
its dark background of pines.

"Hit hain't so big as some," apologized the man, as he climbed into
the wagon and gathered up the reins. "But the chinkin's tol'ble, an'
the roof's middlin' tight 'cept a couple places wher' it leaks."

The girl's glance strayed from the little log building to the untidy
litter of rusty tin cans and broken bottles that ornamented its
dooryard, and the warped and broken panels of the abandoned corral
that showed upon the weed-choked flat across the creek. Stepping to
the door, she peered into the interior where Microby was industriously
sweeping the musty hay from the bunk with the brand-new broom. Thumbed
and torn magazines littered the floor, a few discarded garments hung
dejectedly from nails driven into the wall, while from the sagging
door of the rough board cupboard bulged a miscellaneous collection of
rubbish. A sense of depression obsessed her; _this_ was to be her
home! She sneezed and drew back hastily from the cloud of dust raised
by Microby's broom. As she dabbed at her eyes and nose with a small
and ridiculously inadequate handkerchief, she was conscious of an
uncomfortable lump in her throat, and the moisture that dampened the
handkerchief could not all be accredited to the sneeze tears. "What if
I have tr