t the dimming outline of the
hills, and wondered what had come over her.

Three years on this ranch, seeing her uncle every day almost, living
under the same roof with him, talking with him upon the everyday
business of life,--and to-night, for the first time, the forbidden
subject had been opened. She had said things that until lately she had
not realized were in her mind. She had never liked her uncle, who was
so different from her father, but she had never accused him in her mind
of unfairness until she had written something of the sort in her
ledger. She had never thought of quarrelling,--and yet one could
scarcely call this encounter less than a quarrel. And the strange part
of it was that she still believed what she had said; she still intended
to do the things she declared she would do. Just how she would do them
she did not know, but her purpose was hardening and coming clean-cut
out of the vague background of her mind.

After awhile the dim outline of the high-shouldered hills glowed under
a yellowing patch of light. Jean sat with her chin in her palms and
watched the glow brighten swiftly. Then some unseen force seemed to be
pushing a bright yellow disk up through a gap in the hills, and the gap
was almost too narrow, so that the disk touched either side as it slid
slowly upward. At last it was up, launched fairly upon its leisurely,
drifting journey across to the farther hills behind her. It was not
quite round. That was because one edge had scraped too hard against
the side of the hill, perhaps. But warped though it was, its light fell
softly upon Jean's face, and showed it set and still and stern-eyed and
somber.

She sat there awhile longer, until the slopes lay softly revealed to
her, their hollows filled with inky shadows. She drew a long breath
then, and looked around her at the familiar details of the Bar Nothing
dwelling-place, softened a little by the moonlight, but harsh with her
memories of unhappy days spent there. She rose and went into the house
and to her room, and changed the hated striped percale for her
riding-clothes.

A tall, lank form detached itself from the black shade of the
bunk-house as she went by, hesitated perceptibly, and then followed her
down to the corral. When she had gone in with a rope and later led out
Pard, the form stood forth in the white light of the moon.

"Where are you going, Jean?" Lite asked her in a tone that was soothing
in its friendliness.