had all changed to the queerest lot of folks, who were all
fighting and struggling with each other until she, Lanty, drawing her
dagger, rushed up single-handed among them, crying, "Disperse, ye craven
curs,--disperse, I say." And they dispersed.

Yet even Lanty was obliged to admit the next morning that all this was
somewhat incongruous with the baking of "corn dodgers," the frying of
fish, the making of beds, and her other household duties, and dismissed
the stranger from her mind until he should "happen along." In her freer
and more acceptable outdoor duties she even tolerated the advances of
neighboring swains who made a point of passing by "Foster's Ranch," and
who were quite aware that Atalanta Foster, alias "Lanty," was one of the
prettiest girls in the country. But Lanty's toleration consisted in that
singular performance known to herself as "giving them as good as they
sent," being a lazy traversing, qualified with scorn, of all that they
advanced. How long they would have put up with this from a plain girl I
do not know, but Lanty's short upper lip seemed framed for indolent
and fascinating scorn, and her dreamy eyes usually looked beyond the
questioner, or blunted his bolder glances in their velvety surfaces. The
libretto of these scenes was not exhaustive, e.g.:--

The Swain (with bold, bad gayety). "Saw that shy schoolmaster hangin'
round your ridge yesterday! Orter know by this time that shyness with a
gal don't pay."

Lanty (decisively). "Mebbe he allows it don't get left as often as
impudence."

The Swain (ignoring the reply and his previous attitude and becoming
more direct). "I was calkilatin' to say that with these yer hoss-thieves
about, yer filly ain't safe in the pasture. I took a turn round there
two or three times last evening to see if she was all right."

Lanty (with a flattering show of interest). "No! DID ye, now? I was jest
wonderin"'--

The Swain (eagerly). "I did--quite late, too! Why, that's nothin', Miss
Atalanty, to what I'd do for you."

Lanty (musing, with far off-eyes). "Then that's why she was so awful
skeerd and frightened! Just jumpin' outer her skin with horror. I
reckoned it was a b'ar or panther or a spook! You ought to have waited
till she got accustomed to your looks."

Nevertheless, despite this elegant raillery, Lanty was enough concerned
in the safety of her horse to visit it the next day with a view of
bringing it nearer home. She had just stepped into the alder