ago。 Shore it seems longer。 Three miserable years in this damned
country！〃
Then she bit her lip； evidently to keep back further unwitting
utterance to a total stranger。 And it was that biting of her lip
that drew Jean's attention to her mouth。 It held beauty of curve
and fullness and color that could not hide a certain sadness and
bitterness。 Then the whole flashing brown face changed for Jean。
He saw that it was young； full of passion and restraint； possessing
a power which grew on him。 This； with her shame and pathos and the
fact that she craved respect； gave a leap to Jean's interest。
〃Well； I reckon you flatter me；〃 he said； hoping to put her at her
ease again。 〃I'm only a rough hunter an' fisherman…woodchopper an'
horse tracker。 Never had all the school I needednor near enough
company of nice girls like you。〃
〃Am I nice？〃 she asked； quickly。
〃You sure are；〃 he replied； smiling。
〃In these rags；〃 she demanded； with a sudden flash of passion that
thrilled him。 〃Look at the holes。〃 She showed rips and worn…out
places in the sleeves of her buckskin blouse； through which gleamed
a round； brown arm。 〃I sew when I have anythin' to sew with。 。 。 。
Look at my skirta dirty rag。 An' I have only one other to my name。
。 。 。 Look！〃 Again a color tinged her cheeks； most becoming； and
giving the lie to her action。 But shame could not check her violence
now。 A dammed…up resentment seemed to have broken out in flood。 She
lifted the ragged skirt almost to her knees。 〃No stockings！ No Shoes！
。 。 。 How can a girl be nice when she has no clean； decent woman's
clothes to wear？〃
〃Howhow can a girl。 。 。〃 began Jean。 〃See here； miss； I'm beggin'
your pardon forsort of stirrin' you to forget yourself a little。
Reckon I understand。 You don't meet many strangers an' I sort of
hit you wrongmakin' you feel too muchan' talk too much。 Who an'
what you are is none of my business。 But we met。 。 。 。 An' I reckon
somethin' has happenedperhaps more to me than to you。 。 。 。 Now let
me put you straight about clothes an' women。 Reckon I know most women
love nice things to wear an' think because clothes make them look pretty
that they're nicer or better。 But they're wrong。 You're wrong。 Maybe
it 'd be too much for a girl like you to be happy without clothes。 But
you can beyou axe just as nice； an'an' finean'； for all you know；
a good deal more appealin' to some men。〃
〃Stranger； y'u shore must excuse my temper an' the show I made of
myself；〃 replied the girl； with composure。 〃That； to say the least；
was not nice。 An' I don't want anyone thinkin' better of me than I
deserve。 My mother died in Texas； an' I've lived out heah in this
wild countrya girl alone among rough men。 Meetin' y'u to…day makes
me see what a hard lot they arean' what it's done to me。〃
Jean smothered his curiosity and tried to put out of his mind a growing
sense that he pitied her； liked her。
〃Are you a sheep herder？〃 he asked。
〃 Shore I am now an' then。 My father lives back heah in a canyon。
He's a sheepman。 Lately there's been herders shot at。 Just now we're
short an' I have to fill in。 But I like shepherdin' an' I love the
woods； and the Rim Rock an' all the Tonto。 If they were all； I'd
shore be happy。〃
〃Herders shot at！〃 exclaimed Jean； thoughtfully。 〃By whom？
An' what for？〃
〃Trouble brewin' between the cattlemen down in the Basin an' the
sheepmen up on the Rim。 Dad says there'll shore be hell to pay。
I tell him I hope the cattlemen chase him back to Texas。〃
〃Then Are you on the ranchers' side？ 〃 queried Jean； trying to
pretend casual interest。
〃No。 I'll always be on my father's side；〃 she replied； with spirit。
〃But I'm bound to admit I think the cattlemen have the fair side of
the argument。〃
〃How so？〃
〃Because there's grass everywhere。 I see no sense in a sheepman goin'
out of his way to surround a cattleman an' sheep off his range。 That
started the row。 Lord knows how it'll end。 For most all of them heah
are from Texas。〃
〃So I was told；〃 replied Jean。 〃An' I heard' most all these Texans
got run out of Texas。 Any truth in that？〃
〃Shore I reckon there is；〃 she replied； seriously。 〃But； stranger；
it might not be healthy for y'u to； say that anywhere。 My dad； for
one； was not run out of Texas。 Shore I never can see why he came heah。
He's accumulated stock； but he's not rich nor so well off as he was
back home。〃
〃Are you goin' to stay here always？〃 queried Jean； suddenly。
〃If I do so it 'll be in my grave； 〃 she answered； darkly。 〃But what's
the use of thinkin'？ People stay places until they drift away。 Y'u can
never tell。 。 。 。 Well； stranger； this talk is keepin' y'u。〃
She seemed moody now； and a note of detachment crept into her voice。
Jean rose at once and went for his horse。 If this girl did not desire
to talk further he certainly had no wish to annoy her。 His mule had
strayed off among the bleating sheep。 Jean drove it back and then led
his horse up to where the girl stood。 She appeared taller and； though
not of robust build； she was vigorous and lithe； with something about
her that fitted the place。 Jean was loath to bid her good…by。
〃Which way is the Rim？ 〃 he asked； turning to his saddle girths。
〃South；〃 she replied； pointing。 〃It's only a mile or so。 I'll walk
down with y'u。 。 。 。 Suppose y'u're on the way to Grass Valley？〃
〃Yes； I've relatives there；〃 he returned。 He dreaded her next
question； which he suspected would concern his name。 But she did
not ask。 Taking up her rifle she turned away。 Jean strode ahead
to her side。 〃Reckon if you walk I won't ride。〃
So he found himself beside a girl with the free step of a Mountaineer。
Her bare； brown head came up nearly to his shoulder。 It was a small；
pretty head； graceful； well held； and the thick hair on it was a shiny；
soft brown。 She wore it in a braid； rather untidily and tangled； he
thought； and it was tied with a string of buckskin。 Altogether her
apparel proclaimed poverty。
Jean let the conversation languish for a little。 He wanted to think
what to say presently； and then he felt a rather vague pleasure in
stalking beside her。 Her profile was straight cut and exquisite in
line。 From this side view the soft curve of lips could not be seen。
She made several attempts to start conversation； all of which Jean
ignored； manifestly to her growing constraint。 Presently Jean；
having decided what he wanted to say； suddenly began： 〃I like this
adventure。 Do you？〃
〃Adventure！ Meetin' me in the woods？〃 And she laughed the laugh
of youth。 〃Shore you must be hard up for adventure； stranger。〃
〃Do you like it？〃 he persisted； and his eyes searched the
half…averted face。
〃I might like it；〃 she answered； frankly； 〃ifif my temper had not
made a fool of me。 I never meet anyone I care to talk to。 Why should
it not be pleasant to run across some one newsome one strange in
this heah wild country？ 〃
〃We are as we are；〃 said Jean； simply。 〃I didn't think you made a
fool of yourself。 If I thought so； would I want to see you again？〃
〃Do y'u？〃 The brown face flashed on him with surprise； with a light
he took for gladness。 And because he wanted to appear calm and friendly；
not too eager； he had to deny himself the thrill of meeting those
changing eyes。
〃Sure I do。 Reckon I'm overbold on such short acquaintance。 But I
might not have another chance to tell you； so please don't hold it
against me。〃
This declaration over； Jean felt relief and something of exultation。
He had been afraid he might not have the courage to make it。 She
walked on as before； only with her head bowed a little and her eyes
downcast。 No color but the gold…brown tan and the blue tracery of
veins showed in her cheeks。 He noticed then a slight swelling quiver
of her throat； and he became alive to its graceful contour； and to how
full and pulsating it was； how nobly it set into the curve of her
shoulder。 Here in her quivering throat was the weakness of her；
the evidence of her sex； the womanliness that belied the mountaineer
stride and the grasp of strong brown hands on a rifle。 It had an
effect on Jean totally inexplicable to him； both in the strange warmth
that stole over him and in the utterance he could not hold back。
〃Girl； we're strangers； but what of that？ We've met； an' I tell you
it means somethin' to me。 I've known girls for months an' never felt
this way。 I don't know who you are an' I don't care。 You betrayed a
good deal to me。 You're not happy。 You're lonely。 An' if I didn't
want to see you again for my own sake I would for yours。 Some things
you said I'll not forget soon。 I've got a sister； an' I know you have
no brother。 An' I reckon 。 。 。〃
At this juncture Jean in his earnestness and quite without thought
grasped her hand。 The contact checked the flow of his speech and
suddenly made him aghast at his temerity。 But the girl did not make
any effort to withdraw it。 So Jean； inhaling a deep breath and trying
to see through his bewilderment； held on bravely。 He imagined he felt
a faint； warm； returning pressure。 She was young； she was friendless；
she was human。 By this hand in his Jean