e shot him."

"Oh!" the girl said with impulsive horror.

"Well, what would you have?" Tresler raised his eyebrows and turned
his astonished eyes upon her. "Was I to stand lamb-like and accept a
thrashing from that unconscionable ruffian? No, no," he shook his
head. "I see it in your eyes. You condemn the method, but not the man.
Remember, we all have a right to live--if we can. Maybe there's no
absolute necessity that we should, but still we are permitted to do
our best. That's the philosophy I've had hammered into me with the
various thrashings the school bullies at home have from time to time
administered. I should certainly have done my best."

"And if you had done either of these things, I shudder to think what
would have happened. It was unfortunate, terribly unfortunate. You do
not know Jake Harnach. Oh, Mr. Tresler," the girl hurried on, leaning
suddenly forward in her chair, and reaching out until her small brown
hand rested on his arm, "please, please promise me that you won't run
foul of Jake. He is terrible. You don't, you can't know him, or you
would understand your danger."

"On the contrary, Miss Marbolt. It is because I know a great deal of
him that I should be ready to retaliate very forcibly. I thank my
stars I do know him. Had I not known of him before, your own words
would have warned me to be ready for all emergencies. Jake must go his
way and I'll go mine. I am here to learn ranching, not to submit to
any bulldozing. But let us forget Jake for the moment, and talk of
something more pleasant. What a charming situation the ranch has!"

The girl dropped back in her chair. There was no mistaking the
decision of her visitor's words. She felt that no persuasion of hers
could alter him. With an effort she contrived to answer him.

"Yes, it is a beautiful spot. You have not yet had time to appreciate
the perfections of our surroundings." She paused for him to speak, but
as he remained silent she labored on with her thoughts set on other
things. "The foot-hills come right down almost to our very doors. And
then in the distance, above them, are the white caps of the mountains.
We are sheltered, as no doubt you have seen, by the almost
inaccessible wall beyond the river, and the pinewoods screen us from
the northeast and north winds of winter. South and east are miles and
miles of prairie-lands. Father has been here for eighteen years. I was
a child of four when we came. Whitewater was a mere settlement