hile she was alive, she might have gone back.

"And yet," the ranchman sighed, "the stigma is there. The blot is still on
your father's name, Snuggy. People in New York still believe that I was
dishonest. They believe that with the proceeds of my dishonesty I came out
here and went into the cattle business.

"You see, my dear? Even the settling with our old creditors--the creditors
of Grimes & Morrell--made suspicion wag her tongue more eagerly than ever.
I paid every cent, with interest compounded to the date of settlement.
Grimes had long since had himself cleared of his debts and started over
again. I do not know even that he and Starkweather know that I have been
able to clear up the whole matter.

"However, as I say, the stain upon my reputation remains. I could never
explain my flight. I could never imagine what became of the money.
Somebody embezzled it, and _I_ was the one who ran away. Do you see, my
dear?"

And Helen told him that she _did_ see, and assured him again and again of
her entire trust in his honor. But Mr. Morrell died with the worry of the
old trouble--the trouble that had driven him across the continent--heavy
upon his mind.

And now it was serving to make Helen's mind most uneasy. The crime of
which her father had been accused was continually in her thoughts.

Who had really been guilty of the embezzlement? The bookkeeper, who
disappeared? Fenwick Grimes, the partner? Or, _Who?_

As the Rose pony--her own favorite mount--took Helen Morrell up the bluff
path to the View on this evening, the remembrance of this long talk with
her father before he died was running in the girl's mind.

Perhaps she was a girl who would naturally be more seriously impressed
than most, at sixteen. She had been brought up among older people. She was
a wise little thing when she was a mere toddler.

And after her mother's death she had been her father's daily companion
until she was old enough to be sent away to be educated. The four long
terms at the Denver school had carried Helen Morrell (for she had a quick
mind) through those grades which usually prepare girls for college.

When she came back after graduation, however, she saw that her father
needed her companionship more than she needed college. And, again, she was
too domestic by nature to really long for a higher education.

She was glad now--oh! so glad--that she had remained at Sunset Ranch
during these last few months. Her father had died with her a