he track of soldier, scout and gambler. Yet never
before on the sundown side of the Mississippi had he seen one who
possessed, along with the reserve a lonely bringing-up enjoins, the
dignity and poise that are counted the fruits of civilisation.

"It's good blood," he said to himself, "and"--with a glance at the
section-boss--"it's from the mother's side."

Lancaster, at that moment, was truly anything but a picture of repose.
His season of delight over the morning's news had been brief, and was
now succeeded by thorough disquiet. He hobbled to and fro, from the
hearth, where hung a pail of fragrant coffee, to the farther front
window. Lounsbury remarked his evident worry and, not understanding it,
bent down inquiringly toward Marylyn.

She was seated on a buffalo robe before the fire, zealously tending the
coffee. As she felt the storekeeper's look upon her, she glanced up,
and, meeting his eyes, something other than the firelight swept her
throat, neck and brow with crimson touch.

"There's no fretting in that quarter," was Lounsbury's mental comment.
He turned on the bench to face Dallas.

She was standing quietly beside the warped door, her arms hanging
tensely at her side, her chin up, her eyes gazing straight at him. And
in them, as well as in her whole attitude, Lounsbury read determination
and anxiety.

"What's the matter, I wonder," he thought. He leaned toward her, resting
an elbow on the bench. "You're getting ready for spring seeding, Miss
Lancaster," he said.

"Yes."

The section-boss giggled nervously. "Ef th' town was right here, it
would n' make no difference t' Dallas. Ah'll bet she'll spen' th' winter
shellin' cawn fer plantin', an' pickin' cockle outen th' wheat." He fell
to tugging at his goatee.

Again there was silence. Then, with a deep breath, Dallas straightened
to speak. It was borne to her of a sudden that they were in need--of one
in whom they might confide, of one from whom good advice might come; she
felt impelled to tell this stalwart young man, whose eyes read kindness
and whose face read right, who seemed to bear them nothing but
good-will, that they had not filed the claim. And then----

The fire crackled cosily, the blackened pail steamed from the
cross-piece. Lounsbury spread out his hands before the blaze. "I wish I
lived on a quarter, like you folks," he said. "I hate the dickering in a
store. Been at it ten years. Was in the fur business, at first--bought
from the Ind