e else--just possibly it
might--or to a number of people, or even to the person himself, after he
knew it? Or would you go ahead and trust to luck, especially when
there's a chance that it mightn't ever come out?--though I'm quite sure
it's true, you see, and that's what makes it so hard to know what to
do."

She looked up at him with bright expectancy. Clutching his head with
both hands, he stared at her, alarm leaping in his eyes.

"Would you mind repeating that slowly?" he began, in hushed, stricken
tones. "No, no--I shouldn't ask that. One moment, please--now it all
comes back to me. I see in fancy the dear old home, and hear faithful
Rover barking his glad welcome. Ah, now I have the answer; I knew it
would come. It's because one is a toiler of the sea and the other is a
soiler of the tea--then the ball is snapped back for a run around the
end and the man on third must return to his base."

"I might have known you couldn't understand," she said regretfully; "but
I can't possibly be more explicit. I thought if I stated the case
clearly in the abstract--but I dare say it's a waste of time to ask
advice in such matters."

"You've wasted yours, my child, if that's the last chance I get. Do you
really want help about something?"

"No, dear, it wasn't anything. Never mind."

"All right, if you say so. And now, me for the blankets!"

When he had gone she stepped out into the night under the close, big
stars. She breathed deeply of the thin, sharp air and looked over at the
luminous pearl of a moon that seemed to hang above the cabin where
Ewing's kid would doubtless be dreaming. Her lips fell into a little
smile, half cynical, half tender.

"I'll do it anyway!" The inflection was defiant, but the words were
scarcely more than a whisper. She said them again, giving them tone.

CHAPTER VI

THE LADY AND THE PLAN

They were chatting the next morning over the late breakfast of Mrs.
Laithe. Her brother, summoned from the branding pen, where tender and
terrified calves were being marked for life, had come reluctantly, ill
disposed to forego the vivacity of that scene. He had rushed in with the
look of a man harassed by large affairs. His evil beard was still
unshorn, his dress as untidy as care could make it. He drew a chair up
to the oilcloth covered table and surveyed the meager fare of his sister
with high disapproval.

"What you need is food, Nell," he began abruptly. "Look at me. This
morning I ate t