ent that in a few more years
every unit of those incoming legions would be a citizen of the Republic,
with rights equal to those enjoyed by Torrance of Cedar Range. She had
seen that as yet the constitution gave no man more than he could by his
own hand obtain; but it seemed not unlikely that some, at least, of those
dejected, unkempt men had struck for the rights of humanity that were
denied them in the older lands with dynamite and rifle.

Then, as the first long train of grimy cars rolled out close packed with
their frowsy human freight, a train of another kind came in, and two young
women in light dresses swung themselves down from the platform of a car
that was sumptuous with polished woods and gilding. Miss Torrance rose as
she saw them, and touched her companion.

"Come along, Larry, and I'll show you two of the nicest girls you ever
met," she said.

The man laughed. "They would have been nicer if they hadn't come quite so
soon," he said.

He followed his companion and was duly presented to Miss Flora and Miss
Caroline Schuyler. "Larry Grant of Fremont Ranch," said Miss Torrance.
"Larry is a great friend of mine."

The Misses Schuyler were pretty. Carolina, the younger, pale, blue-eyed,
fair-haired and vivacious; her sister equally blonde, but a trifle
quieter. Although they were gracious to him, Grant fancied that one
flashed a questioning glance at the other when there was a halt in the
conversation. Then, as if by tacit agreement, they left him alone a moment
with their companion, and Hetty Torrance smiled as she held out her hand.

"I can't keep them waiting, but you'll come and see me," she said.

"I am going home to-morrow," said the man. "When are you coming, Hetty?"

The girl smiled curiously, and there was a trace of wistfulness in her
eyes. "I don't quite know. Just now I fancy I may not come at all, but you
will not forget me, Larry."

The man looked at her very gravely, and Hetty Torrance appeared to find
something disconcerting in his gaze, for she turned her head away.

"No," he said, and there was a little tremor in his voice, "I don't think
I shall forget you. Well, if ever you grow tired of the cities you will
remember the lonely folks who are longing to have you home again back
there on the prairie."

Hetty Torrance felt her fingers quiver under his grasp, but the next
moment he had turned away, and her companions noticed there was a faint
pink tinge in her cheeks when she rejoined t