sitated. Would a man dare lie to save himself? No. But to
save the Angel--surely that was different. He opened his lips, but the
Angel was capable of saving herself. She walked among them, exactly as
if she had been reared in a lumber camp, and never waited for an answer.

"Why, your specimen case!" she cried. "Look! Haven't you noticed that
it's tipped over? Set it straight, quickly!"

A couple of the men stepped out and carefully righted the case.

"There! That's better," she said. "Freckles, I'm surprised at your being
so careless. It would be a shame to break those lovely butterflies for
one old tree! Is that a valuable tree? Why didn't you tell us last night
you were going to take out a tree this morning? Oh, say, did you put
your case there to protect that tree from that stealing old Black Jack
and his gang? I bet you did! Well, if that wasn't bright! What kind of a
tree is it?"

"It's a white oak," said Freckles.

"Like those they make dining-tables and sideboards from?"

"Yes."

"My! How interesting!" she cried. "I don't know a thing about timber,
but my father wants me to learn just everything I can. I am going to ask
him to let me come here and watch you until I know enough to boss a gang
myself. Do you like to cut trees, gentlemen?" she asked with angelic
sweetness of the men.

Some of them appeared foolish and some grim, but one managed to say they
did.

Then the Angel's eyes turned full on Black Jack, and she gave the most
natural little start of astonishment.

"Oh! I almost thought that you were a ghost!" she cried. "But I see now
that you are really and truly. Were you ever in Colorado?"

"No," said Jack.

"I see you aren't the same man," said the Angel. "You know, we were in
Colorado last year, and there was a cowboy who was the handsomest man
anywhere around. He'd come riding into town every night, and all we
girls just adored him! Oh, but he was a beauty! I thought at first
glance you were really he, but I see now he wasn't nearly so tall nor so
broad as you, and only half as handsome."

The men began to laugh while Jack flushed crimson. The Angel joined in
the laugh.

"Well, I'll leave it to you! Isn't he handsome?" she challenged. "As for
that cowboy's face, it couldn't be compared with yours. The only trouble
with you is that your clothes are spoiling you. It's the dress those
cowboys wear that makes half their attraction. If you were properly
clothed, you could break the heart of