then,
and Forks wasn't even in existence. We hadn't a neighbor nearer than
Whitewater in those days, except the Indians and half-breeds. They
were rough times, and father held his place only by the subtlety of
his poor blind brain, and the arms of the men he had with him. Jake
has been with us as long as I can remember. So you see," she added,
returning to her womanly dread for his safety, "I know Jake. My
warning is not the idle fear of a silly girl."

Tresler remained silent for a moment or two. Then he asked sharply--

"Why does your father keep him?"

The girl shrugged her shoulders. "Jake is the finest ranchman in the
country."

And in the silence that followed Tresler helped himself to more
coffee, and finished off with cheese and crackers. Neither seemed
inclined to break up the awkwardness of the pause. For the time the
man's thoughts were wandering in interested speculation as to the
possibilities of his future on the ranch. He was not thinking so much
of Jake, nor even of Julian Marbolt. It was of the gentler
associations with the girl beside him--associations he had never
anticipated in his wildest thoughts. She was no prairie-bred girl. Her
speech, her manner, savored too much of civilization. Yes, he decided
in his mind, although she claimed Mosquito Bend as her home since she
was four, she had been educated elsewhere. His thoughts were suddenly
cut short. A faint sound caught his quick ears. Then Diane's voice,
questioning him, recalled his wandering attention.

"I understand you intend to stay with us for three years?"

"Just as long as it will take to learn all the business of a ranch,"
he answered readily. "I am going to become one of the----"

Again he heard the peculiar noise, and he broke off listening. Diane
was listening too. It was a soft tap, tap, like some one knocking
gently upon a curtained door. It was irregular, intermittent, like the
tapping of a telegraph-sounder working very slowly.

"What's that?" he asked.

The girl had risen, and a puzzled look was in her eyes. "The noise?
Oh, it's father," she said, with a shadowy smile, and in a lowered
tone. "Something must have disturbed him. It is unusual for him to be
awake so early."

Now they heard a door open, and the tapping ceased. Then the door
closed and the lock turned. A moment later there came the jingle of
keys, and then shuffling footsteps accompanied the renewed tapping.

Tresler was still listening. He had turned towa