for each of my new sisters。〃 This distribution left the women as happy
and occupied； almost； as the children。 It left also another package；
the last one in the bundle。 Jean laid hold of it and； lifting it；
he was about to speak when he sustained a little shock of memory。
Quite distinctly he saw two little feet； with bare toes peeping out
of worn…out moccasins； and then round； bare； symmetrical ankles that
had been scratched by brush。 Next he saw Ellen Jorth's passionate
face as she looked when she had made the violent action so disconcerting
to him。 In this happy moment the memory seemed farther off than a
few hours。 It had crystallized。 It annoyed while it drew him。 As a
result he slowly laid this package aside and did not speak as he had
intended to。
〃Dad； I reckon I didn't fetch a lot for you an' the boys；〃 continued
Jean。 〃Some knives； some pipes an' tobacco。 An' sure the guns。〃
〃Shore； you're a regular Santa Claus； Jean；〃 replied his father。
〃Wal； wal； look at the kids。 An' look at Mary。 An' for the land's
sake look at Ann！ Wal； wal； I'm gettin' old。 I'd forgotten the
pretty stuff an' gimcracks that mean so much to women。 We're out
of the world heah。 It's just as well you've lived apart from us；
Jean； for comin' back this way； with all that stuff； does us a lot
of good。 I cain't say； son； how obliged I am。 My mind has been set
on the hard side of life。 An' it's shore good to forgetto see the
smiles of the women an' the joy of the kids。〃
At this juncture a tall young man entered the open door。 He looked
a rider。 All about him； even his face； except his eyes； seemed old；
but his eyes were young； fine； soft； and dark。
〃How do； y'u…all！〃 he said； evenly。
Ann rose from her knees。 Then Jean did not need to be told who this
newcomer was。
〃Jean； this is my friend； Andrew Colmor。〃
Jean knew when he met Colmor's grip and the keen flash of his eyes
that he was glad Ann had set her heart upon one of their kind。 And
his second impression was something akin to the one given him in the
road by the admiring lad。 Colmor's estimate of him must have been a
monument built of Ann's eulogies。 Jean's heart suffered misgivings。
Could he live up to the character that somehow had forestalled his
advent in Grass Valley？ Surely life was measured differently here
in the Tonto Basin。
The children； bundling their treasures to their bosoms； were dragged
off to bed in some remote part of the house； from which their laughter
and voices came back with happy significance。 Jean forthwith had an
interested audience。 How eagerly these lonely pioneer people listened
to news of the outside world！ Jean talked until he was hoarse。
In their turn his hearers told him much that had never found place
in the few and short letters he had received since he had been left
in Oregon。 Not a word about sheepmen or any hint of rustlers！
Jean marked the omission and thought all the more seriously of
probabilities because nothing was said。 Altogether the evening was
a happy reunion of a family of which all living members were there
present。 Jean grasped that this fact was one of significant
satisfaction to his father。
〃Shore we're all goin' to live together heah；〃 he declared。 〃I started
this range。 I call most of this valley mine。 We'll run up a cabin for
Ann soon as she says the word。 An' you； Jean； where's your girl？
I shore told you to fetch her。〃
〃Dad； I didn't have one；〃 replied Jean。
〃Wal； I wish you had；〃 returned the rancher。 〃You'll go courtin' one
of these Tonto hussies that I might object to。〃
〃Why； father； there's not a girl in the valley Jean would look twice at；〃
interposed Ann Isbel； with spirit。
Jean laughed the matter aside； but he had an uneasy memory。 Aunt Mary
averred； after the manner of relatives； that Jean would play havoc
among the women of the settlement。 And Jean retorted that at least
one member of the Isbels； should hold out against folly and fight and
love and marriage； the agents which had reduced the family to these
few present。 〃I'll be the last Isbel to go under； 〃 he concluded。
〃Son； you're talkin' wisdom；〃 said his father。 〃An' shore that reminds
me of the uncle you're named after。 Jean Isbel！ 。 。 。 Wal； he was my
youngest brother an' shore a fire…eater。 Our mother was a French creole
from Louisiana； an' Jean must have inherited some of his fightin' nature
from her。 When the war of the rebellion started Jean an' I enlisted。
I was crippled before we ever got to the front。 But Jean went through
three Years before he was killed。 His company had orders to fight to
the last man。 An' Jean fought an' lived long enough just to be that
last man。〃
At length Jean was left alone with his father。
〃Reckon you're used to bunkin' outdoors？〃 queried the rancher；
rather abruptly。
〃Most of the time；〃 replied Jean。
〃Wal； there's room in the house； but I want you to sleep out。
Come get your beddin' an' gun。 I'll show you。〃
They went outside on the porch； where Jean shouldered his roll of
tarpaulin and blankets。 His rifle； in its saddle sheath； leaned
against the door。 His father took it up and； half pulling it out；
looked at it by the starlight。 〃Forty…four； eh？ Wal； wal； there's
shore no better； if a man can hold straight。 〃At the moment a big
gray dog trotted up to sniff at Jean。 〃An' heah's your bunkmate；
Shepp。 He's part lofer； Jean。 His mother was a favorite shepherd
dog of mine。 His father was a big timber wolf that took us two years
to kill。 Some bad wolf packs runnin' this Basin。〃
The night was cold and still； darkly bright under moon and stars；
the smell of hay seemed to mingle with that of cedar。 Jean followed
his father round the house and up a gentle slope of grass to the edge
of the cedar line。 Here several trees with low…sweeping thick branches
formed a dense； impenetrable shade。
〃Son； your uncle Jean was scout for Liggett； one of the greatest
rebels the South had；〃 said the rancher。 〃An' you're goin' to be
scout for the Isbels of Tonto。 Reckon you'll find it 'most as hot
as your uncle did。 。 。 。 Spread your bed inside。 You can see out；
but no one can see you。 Reckon there's been some queer happenin's
'round heah lately。 If Shepp could talk he'd shore have lots to
tell us。 Bill an' Guy have been sleepin' out； trailin' strange hoss
tracks； an' all that。 But shore whoever's been prowlin' around heah
was too sharp for them。 Some bad； crafty； light…steppin' woodsmen
'round heah； Jean。 。 。 。 Three mawnin's ago； just after daylight；
I stepped out the back door an' some one of these sneaks I'm talkin'
aboot took a shot at me。 Missed my head a quarter of an inch！
To…morrow I'll show you the bullet hole in the doorpost。 An' some
of my gray hairs that 're stickin' in it！〃
〃Dad！〃 ejaculated Jean； with a hand outstretched。 That's awful！
You frighten me。〃
〃No time to be scared；〃 replied his father； calmly。 〃They're shore
goin' to kill me。 That's why I wanted you home。 。 。 。 In there with
you； now！ Go to sleep。 You shore can trust Shepp to wake you if he
gets scent or sound。 。 。 。 An' good night； my son。 I'm sayin' that
I'll rest easy to…night。〃
Jean mumbled a good night and stood watching his father's shining
white head move away under the starlight。 Then the tall； dark form
vanished； a door closed； and all was still。 The dog Shepp licked
Jean's hand。 Jean felt grateful for that warm touch。 For a moment
he sat on his roll of bedding； his thought still locked on the
shuddering revelation of his father's words； 〃They're shore goin'
to kill me。〃 The shock of inaction passed。 Jean pushed his pack
in the dark opening and； crawling inside； he unrolled it and made
his bed。
When at length he was comfortably settled for the night he breathed
a long sigh of relief。 What bliss to relax！ A throbbing and burning
of his muscles seemed to begin with his rest。 The cool starlit night；
the smell of cedar； the moan of wind； the silencean were real to his
senses。 After long weeks of long； arduous travel he was home。 The
warmth of the welcome still lingered； but it seemed to have been
pierced by an icy thrust。 What lay before him？ The shadow in the
eyes of his aunt； in the younger； fresher eyes of his sisterJean
connected that with the meaning of his father's tragic words。 Far
past was the morning that had been so keen； the breaking of camp in
the sunlit forest； the riding down the brown aisles under the pines；
the music of bleating lambs that had called him not to pass by。
Thought of Ellen Jorth recurred。 Had he met her only that morning？
She was up there in the forest； asleep under the starlit pines。
Who was she？ What was her story？ That savage fling of her skirt；
her bitter speech and passionate flaming facethey haunted Jean。
They were crystallizing into simpler memories； growing away from
his bewilderment； and therefore at once sweeter and more doubtful。
〃Maybe she meant differently from what I thought；〃 Jean soliloquized。
〃Anyway； she was honest。〃 Both shame and thrill possessed him at the
recall of an insidious ideadare he go back and find her and give her
the last package of gifts he had brought from the