"Come to think of it," he said, "there is something you can do for me.
Bill and I have got to drive all the stock over to the station. I'd be a
thousand times obliged if you would help us."

For a half-dozen steps Blair did not answer; then he turned fairly to
his companion.

"You won't be offended if I refuse?" he asked.

"No, certainly not."

"Well, then, I don't want to help you myself, but I'll get Grannis to go
with you. He'll be just as useful."

Ordinarily, despite his assertion to the contrary, Scotty would have
been offended; but he knew this long youth quite too well to
misunderstand.

"Would you mind telling me why you refuse?" he said at last.

Ben shifted the heavy saddle to his other shoulder.

"No, I don't mind," he said bluntly. "I won't help you because I don't
want you to go."

Scotty pondered, and a light dawned on his slow-moving brain. He looked
at Ben sympathetically. "My boy," he said, "I'm sorry for you; by Jove!
I am."

They were even with the horse-barn now, and without a word Ben went in
and hung up the saddle, each stirrup upon a nail. Relieved of his load
he came back, slapping the dust from his clothes with his big gauntlets.

"If it's a fair question," he asked, "why do I merit your sympathy?"

The Englishman's hands went deeper into his pockets.

"Why?" He all but stared. "Because you haven't a ghost of a chance with
Florence. She'd laugh at you!"

Ben's blue eyes were raised to a level with the other's glasses. "She'd
laugh at me, you think?" he asked quietly.

Scotty shifted uneasily. "Well, perhaps not that," he retracted, "but
anyway, you haven't a chance. I like you, Ben, and I'm dead sorry that
she is different. She comes, if I do say it, of a good family, and
you--" of a sudden the Englishman found himself floundering in deep
water.

"And I am--an unknown," Ben finished for him.

At that moment Scotty heartily wished himself elsewhere, but wishing did
not help him. "Yes, to put it baldly, that's the word. It's unfortunate,
damned unfortunate, but true, you know."

Ben's eyes did not leave the other man's face. "You've talked with her,
have you?" he asked.

Scotty fidgeted more than before, and swore silently that in future he
would keep his compassions to himself.

"No, I've never thought it necessary so far; but of course--"

Ben Blair lifted his head. "Don't worry, Mr. Baker, I'll tell her my
pedigree myself. I supposed she already knew--that everybody