r face?" asked the
stranger, frowning with his eyes but smiling with his lips.

"They _ain't_ dirt spots!" returned the boy with spirit, advancing a
step.

"No?" said the man, feigning intense astonishment. "What _are_ they?"

"They're freckles," answered the boy stoutly.

"Oh--oh, _that's_ what they are," said the stranger with a delighted
laugh. "Won't they wash off?"

"Naw. You can't fool me. You knew what they were!"

"Well, now, maybe so," observed the man as the girl laughingly turned
inside.

"Grub'll be ready by time you are," she called back to him.

"I'll show you where to put your horse," said the boy as the man
looked searchingly up and down the valley.

CHAPTER II

A BOY AND A GIRL

When Rathburn had put up his horse, after giving him a light feed of
grain in the barn, he followed the boy to the rear of the house where
he found water, soap, and a towel on a bench, above which hung a small
mirror.

The boy left him there, and he soon washed and combed his hair. The
girl opened the rear door for him and he walked through the little
kitchen into a small front room where a table was set for him.

"Sure, ma'am, I didn't figure on causing you so much trouble," he said
with a smile. "I didn't expect anything but a snack, an' here you've
gone an' fixed a regular dinner--this time of day, too."

"My experience with men in this country has taught me that when
they're hungry, they're hungry," replied the girl. "And it wasn't much
trouble. Those beans were in the oven and already warm. I just had to
make the coffee. I was expecting my brother."

"I didn't see any men around the place," he said, beginning to eat.
"If I had I'd have made myself known to them before coming to the
house. Where is he--out with the cattle?"

He saw her gaze was troubled. "I don't know just where he is--to-day,"
she confessed. "He goes away and sometimes doesn't come back for a day
or two." She stood in the doorway.

Rathburn noted her trim, slim figure and her wealth of chestnut hair.
She was pretty and capable. He surmised that her parents were dead,
although he could not ascribe the reason for this deduction. Evidently
the boy was a younger brother. He wondered if the older brother would
return before he finished eating.

"How far is it to Dry Lake?" he asked casually.

"Oh--why, didn't you come from there?" She seemed surprised.

"No. I came from over to eastward."

"But it's miles and miles to any plac