th of
sheep, no hostile shot has ever been fired within the bounds of a National
Forest. In the work of the forest rangers lies the hope of ultimate peace
and order over all the public lands."

The girl fell silent again, her mind filled with larger conceptions of
life than her judgment had hitherto been called upon to meet. She knew
that Redfield was right, and yet that world of the past--the world of the
swift herdsman and his trampling, long-horned, half-wild kine still
appealed to her imagination. The West of her girlhood seemed heroic in
memory; even the quiet account of it to which she had just listened could
not conceal its epic largeness of movement. The part which troubled her
most was her father's treachery to his neighbors. That he should fight,
that he should kill men in honorable warfare, she could understand; but
not his recreancy, his desertion of her mother and herself.

She came back to dwell at last on the action of that slim young soldier
who had calmly ridden through the infuriated mob. She remembered that she
had thrilled even then at the vague and impersonal power which he
represented. To her childish mind he seemed to bear a charm, like the
heroes of her story-books--something which made him invulnerable.

After a long pause Redfield spoke again. "The memory of your father will
make life for a time a bit hard for you in Roaring Fork--perhaps your
mother's advice is sound. Why not come to Sulphur City, which is almost
entirely of the new spirit?"

"If I can get my mother to come, too, I will be glad to do so, for I hate
the Fork; but I will not leave her there, sick and alone."

"Much depends upon the doctor's examination to-morrow."

They had topped the divide now between the Fork and Sulphur Creek Basin,
and the green fields, the alfalfa meadows, and the painted farm-houses
thickened beneath them. Strange how significant all these signs were now.
A few days ago they had appeared doubtful improvements, now they
represented the oncoming dominion of the East. They meant cleanliness and
decent speech, good bread and sweet butter. Ultimately houses with hot
water in their bath-rooms and pianos in their parlors would displace the
shack, the hitching-pole, and the dog-run, and in those days Edward
Wetherford would be forgotten.

Redfield swept through the town, then turned up the stream directly toward
the high wall of the range, which was ragged and abrupt at this point.
They passed several char