and
put fresh heart into him. He had expected bitter invective, but instead
the girl smiled.

Jacky's task now became a simple one. A mere matter of pumping. Sharp
questions and rambling replies. Bit by bit she learned the story of
Lablache's proposal and the manner in which an acceptance had been
forced upon her uncle. She did not relinquish her task until the
minutest detail had been gleaned. At last she was satisfied with her
cross-examination.

She rose to her feet and passed her hand with a caressing movement over
her uncle's head, gazing the while out of the window. Her mind was made
up. Her uncle needed her help now. That help should be his. She condoned
his faults; she saw nothing but that which was lovable in his weakness.
Hers was now the strength to protect him, who, in the days of his best
manhood had sheltered her from the cruel struggles of a life in the
half-breed camp, for such, at the death of her impecunious father, must
otherwise have been her lot.

Now she looked down into that worn, old face, and her brisk,
business-like tones roused him into new life.

"Uncle, you must meet Lablache and play--the game. For the rest, leave
it to me. All I ask is--no more whisky to-day. Stay right here and have
a sleep. Guess you might go an' lie down. I'll call you for supper. Then
you'll be fit. One thing you must remember; watch that ugly-faced cur
when you play. See he don't cheat any. I'll tell you more before you
start out. Come right along now and have that sleep."

The old man got up and the girl led him from the room. She saw him to
his bedroom and then left him. She decided that, for herself, she would
not leave the house until she had seen Bill. She must get her uncle
sober before he went to meet Lablache.

CHAPTER XXVI

IN WHICH MATTERS REACH A CLIMAX

Foss River Settlement was, at the time, a very small place, and of
practically no importance. It was brought into existence by the
neighborhood of one or two large ranches; these ranches employed
considerable labor. Foss River might be visited by an earthquake, and,
provided the earthquake was not felt elsewhere, the world would not be
likely to hear of it for weeks. The newspapers of the Western cities
were in their infancy, and contented themselves with the news of their
own towns and feverish criticisms of politics which were beyond the
understanding of their editors. Progress in the West was very
slow--almost at a standstill.

After