ed his greeting and asked if her father intended to go
anywhere.

"No. I'm taking telegrams to Huntington."

"Telegrams? What's the matter with the 'phone?" she queried.

"Wire was cut yesterday."

"By I.W.W. men?"

"So your father says. I don't know."

"Something ought to be done to those men," said Lenore, severely.

Nash was a dark-browed, heavy-jawed young man, with light eyes and hair.
He appeared to be intelligent and had some breeding, but his manner when
alone with Lenore--he had driven her to town several times--was not the
same as when her father was present. Lenore had not bothered her mind
about it. But to-day the look in his eyes was offensive to her.

"Between you and me, Lenore, I've sympathy for those poor devils," he
said.

Lenore drew back rather haughtily at this familiar use of her first
name. "It doesn't concern me," she said, coldly and turned away.

"Won't you ride along with me? I'm driving around for the mail," he
called after her.

"No," returned Lenore, shortly, and hurried on out of earshot. The
impertinence of the fellow!

"Mawnin', Miss Lenore!" drawled a cheery voice. The voice and the jingle
of spurs behind her told Lenore of the presence of the best liked of all
her father's men.

"Good morning, Jake! Where's my dad?"

"Wal, he's with Adams, an' I wouldn't be Adams for no money," replied
the cowboy.

"Neither would I," laughed Lenore.

"Reckon you ain't ridin' this mawnin'. You sure look powerful fine, Miss
Lenore, but you can't ride in thet dress."

"Jake, nothing but an aeroplane would satisfy me to-day."

"Want to fly, hey? Wal, excuse me from them birds. I seen one, an'
thet's enough for me.... An', changin' the subject, Miss Lenore, beggin'
your pardon--you ain't ridin' in the car much these days."

"No, Jake, I'm not," she replied, and looked at the cowboy. She would
have trusted Jake as she would her brother Jim. And now he looked
earnest.

"Wal, I'm sure glad. I heerd Nash call an' ask you to go with him. I
seen his eyes when he said it.... Sure I know you'd never look at the
likes of him. But I want to tell you--he ain't no good. I've been
watchin' him. Your dad's orders. He's mixed up with the I.W.W.'s. But
thet ain't what I mean. It's--He's--I--"

"Thank you, Jake," replied Lenore, as the cowboy floundered. "I
appreciate your thought of me. But you needn't worry."

"I was worryin' a little," he said. "You see, I know men better 'n your
dad, an' I