ell," he said very simply, "I guess the Lord who
made this country will know who's in the right and help them. They'll need
it. There's a big fight coming."

Then they went back to their hewing in the bluff, and the Fraeulein Muller
went on with her knitting.

V

HETTY COMES HOME

It was an afternoon of the Indian summer, sunny and cool, and the maples
about the Schuyler villa flamed gold and crimson against a sky of softest
blue, when Hetty Torrance sat reflectively silent on the lawn. Flora
Schuyler sat near her, with a book upside down upon her knee.

"You have been worrying about something the last few weeks," she said.

"Is that quite unusual?" asked Hetty. "Haven't a good many folks to worry
all the time?"

Flora Schuyler smiled. "Just finding it out, Hetty? Well, I have noticed a
change, and it began the day you waited for us at the depot. And it wasn't
because of Jake Cheyne."

"No," said Hetty reflectively. "I suppose it should have been. Have you
heard from him since he went away?"

"Lily Cheyne had a letter with some photographs, and she showed it to me.
It's a desolate place in the sage bush he's living in, and there's not a
white man, except the boys he can't talk to, within miles of him, while
from the picture I saw of his adobe room I scarcely think folks would have
it down here to keep hogs in. Jake Cheyne was fastidious, too, and there
was a forced cheerfulness about his letter which had its meaning, though,
of course, he never mentioned you."

Hetty flushed a trifle. "Flo, I'm sorry. Still, you can't blame me."

"No," said Miss Schuyler, "though there was a time when I wished I could.
You can't help being pretty, but it ought to make you careful when you see
another of them going that way again."

Hetty made a little impatient gesture. "If there ever is another, he'll be
pulled up quite sharp. You don't think their foolishness, which spoils
everything, is any pleasure to me. It's too humiliating. Can't one be
friends with a nice man without falling in love with him?"

"Well," said Miss Schuyler drily, "it depends a good deal on how you're
made; but it's generally risky for one or the other. Still, perhaps you
might, for I have a fancy there's something short in you. Now, I'm going
to ask you a question. Is it thinking of the other man that has made you
restless? I mean the one we saw at the depot?"

Hetty laughed outright. "Larry? Why, as I tried to tell you, he has always
been