Office."

"And in the meantime you are going to make that same child work for her
daily bread like any 'hired man,' and keep company with any scoun--"

"Hi, stop there, Lablache! Stop there," thundered "Poker" John, and
Jacky heard a thud as of a fist falling upon the table. "You've taken
the unwarrantable liberty of poking your nose into my affairs, and,
because of our old acquaintance, I have allowed it. But now let me tell
you this is no d----d business of yours. There's no make with Jacky.
What she does, she does of her own accord."

At that moment the girl in question walked abruptly in from the veranda.
She had heard enough.

"Ah, uncle," she said, smiling tenderly up into the old man's face,
"talking of me, I guess. You shouted my name just as I was coming along.
Say, I want the field-glasses. Where are they?"

Then she turned on Lablache as if she had only just become aware of his
presence.

"What, Mr. Lablache, you here? And so early, too. Guess this isn't like
you. How is your store--that temple of wealth and high interest--to get
on without you? How are the 'improvident'--'harum-scarums' to live if
you are not present to minister to their wants--upon the best of
security?" Without waiting for a reply the girl picked up the glasses
she was in search of and darted out, leaving Lablache glaring his
bilious-eyed rage after her.

"Poker" John stood for a moment a picture of blank surprise; then he
burst into a loud guffaw at the discomfited money-lender. Jacky heard
the laugh and smiled. Then she passed out of earshot and concentrated
her attention upon the distant speck of animal life.

The girl stood for some moments surveying the creature as it moved
leisurely along, its nose well down amongst the roots of the tawny
grass, seeking out the tender green shoots of the new-born pasture. Then
she closed her glasses and her thoughts wandered to other matters.

The gorgeous landscape was, for a moment, utterly lost upon her. The
snowy peaks of the Rockies, stretching far as the eye could see away to
the north and south, like some giant fortification set up to defend the
rolling pastures of the prairies from the ceaseless attack of the stormy
Pacific Ocean, were far from her thoughts. Her eyes, it is true, were
resting on the level flat of the muskeg, beyond the grove of slender
pines which lined the approach to the house, but she was not thinking of
that. No, recollection was struggling back through two year