d watched the patched
sails of the stone hookers, and the wheeling, gray lake gulls, and
heard the water hiss and ripple to the long, white beaches. And, as he
dreamed, a part of boyhood's joy in mere life awoke in him again.

Chakchak Ranch came into view. Its cultivated area smaller than that of
Talapus, it was nevertheless as scrupulously cared for. The one might
have served as model for the other. Here, also, were the straight lines
of the ditches, the squares of grain fields beginning to show green,
the young orchards, the sleek, contented stock, the corrals, and
outbuildings.

But, as became the residence of a bachelor, the ranch-house itself was
less pretentious. It was a small bungalow, with wide verandas which
increased its apparent size. There Casey lived with Tom McHale, his
right-hand man and foreman. The hired men, varying in number
constantly, occupied other quarters.

Casey would have helped Sheila to alight, but she swung down,
stretching her limbs frankly after the hard ride.

"That's _going_," she said. "Beaver Boy was a brute to hold; he wanted
to race Shiner. He nearly got away from me once. My wrists are actually
lame." She drew off her long buckskin gauntlets, flexing her wrists
cautiously, straightening her fingers, prolonging the luxury of
relaxing the cramped sinews.

"Let us now eat, drink, and be merry," said Casey, "for
to-morrow--well, never mind that. But what would you like? Coffee, tea,
claret lemonade? Tell me what you want."

"Too hot for tea. I'd like a dust eraser--a cold drink about a yard
long."

"Hey, you, Feng!" Casey cried, to a white-aproned, grinning Chinaman,
"you catch two ice drink quick--_hiyu_ ice, you savvy! Catch claret
wine, catch cracker, catch cake. Missy _hiyu_ dry, _hiyu_ hungry. Get a
hustle on you, now!"

Feng, understanding perfectly the curious mixture of pidgin and
Chinook, vanished soft-footed. They entered the living room of the
bungalow.

"Stretch out and be comfy while he's rustling it," said Casey,
indicating a couch. He himself fell into a huge wicker chair, flung his
hat carelessly at the table, and reached for a cigar box.

Sheila dropped on the couch with a satisfied sigh, stretching her arms
above her head, her hands clasped, every muscle of her relaxing. The
comparative coolness, the quiet, the soft cushions were good after a
day in the saddle. Down there on the Coldstream the strict proprieties
did not trouble them. If any one had sugg