elf in Bad Man's Hollow, and the knowledge of the
intentions of the money-lender towards "Lord" Bill, all helped to render
her distrait. She knew all about the scene which had taken place at
Bill's ranch, and she knew that, for her lover at least, the crash had
come. During that first month of the open season the girl had been
sorely tried. There was no one but "Aunt" Margaret to whom she could go
for comfort or sympathy, and even she, with her wise councils and
far-seeing judgment, could not share in the secrets which weighed so
heavily upon the girl.

Jacky had not experienced, as might have been expected, very great
difficulty in keeping her uncle fast to the grind-stone of duty.
Whatever his faults and weaknesses, John Allandale was first of all a
rancher, and when once the winter breaks every rancher must work--ay,
work like no negro slave ever worked. It was only in the evenings, when
bodily fatigue had weakened the purpose of ranching habit, and when the
girl, wearied with her day's work, relaxed her vigilance, that the old
man craved for the object of his passion and its degrading
accompaniment. Then he would nibble at the whisky bottle, having "earned
his tonic," as he would say, until the potent spirit had warmed his
courage and he would hurry off to the saloon for "half an hour's
flutter," which generally terminated in the small hours of the morning.

Such was the state of affairs at the Foss River Ranch when Lablache put
into execution his threats against the Hon. Bunning-Ford. The settlement
had returned to its customary torpid serenity. The round-up was over,
and all the "hands" had returned to the various ranches to which they
belonged. The little place had entered upon its period of placid sleep,
which would last until the advent of the farmers to spend the proceeds
of their garnered harvest. But this would be much later in the year, and
in the meantime Foss River would sleep.

The night before the sale of "Lord" Bill's ranch, he and Jacky went for
a ride. They had thus ridden out on many evenings of late. Old John was
too absorbed in his own affairs to bother himself at these evening
journeyings, although, in his careless way, he noticed how frequent a
visitor at the ranch Bill had lately become. Still, he made no
objection. If his niece saw fit to encourage these visits he would not
interfere. In his eyes the girl could do no wrong. It was his one
redeeming feature, his love for the motherless girl,