anner of the woman did not disguise her
earnestness. Jeff shook his head.

"Guess I can't say. Guess none of us can--rightly. But why not come
around to the ranch and see things? See if you can worry out an
answer. See if you think the work we're doing matters. It certainly
does matter to me, to us. But in the world. I don't know. Just now I
sort of feel it don't. Just now I'm wondering whether I'll go back
there to-morrow. What do you say?"

"I? How can I say?"

Jeff laughed.

"I don't guess there's a thing easier." His eyes were shining as he
took in the girl's dark beauty. "Seems to me I'm beginning to wonder
about the things that matter myself. It's been a bully week. The sort
of week some folks would write about in their secret diary. Guess I
don't keep a secret diary--except somewhere right in here." He tapped
his breast. "I don't seem to feel I've ever had such a time, or ever
will again, unless----"

"Unless?" Elvine was caught in the mood of the moment. This man was
exercising a fascination over her which had nothing to do with the
calculations she had laid down for the guidance of her sex.

"Why, unless I add another week to it."

"D'you think you could duplicate it then?"

"That just depends on--you."

Elvine rose from her chair and moved toward the window. Jeff, too,
left his chair. He stood tall and straight--waiting.

Her back was turned to him.

"It is not for me to say," she replied without turning.

"Why not?"

"Your work--in the world."

"Can wait. There's always--Bud Tristram."

Suddenly Elvine turned about. Her eyes were smiling, and full of a
light which had not lived in them for several years. There was not a
shadow of calculation in them now.

She held out her hand in token of dismissal.

"We had some fine rides--together," she said.

"My horses are still here."

"And--the dances. They were--very pleasant."

"Maybe they can be danced--again."

"Good-bye," she said, her beautiful hand lingering in his for a moment.

"For the present," Jeff added with decision.

Then he mechanically glanced at his timepiece. His "farewell" call had
lasted over two hours. But even so it had been all too short for him.

CHAPTER XII

THE TEMPERING

Bud was packing in his rooms at Aston's Hotel. It was late at night.
Late as it was, however, he had only left Nan, engaged at a similar
occupation, less than half an hour ago. He had sat talking to her,