was gratitude for her action in caring for his injured arm, and yet he
watched her narrowly for any sign that would tell him that she was
aware of his thoughts and was enjoying him. But he was able to
determine nothing from her face, for though she smiled often there was
nothing in her face at which he could take offense. She devoted much
of her time and attention to Bob. And Bob talked to Calumet. There
was something about the boy that attracted Calumet, and before the meal
ended they were conversing companionably. But toward the conclusion of
the meal, when in answer to something Bob said to him he smiled at the
boy, he saw Betty looking at him with a glance of mingled astonishment
and pleasure, he sobered and ceased talking. He didn't want to do
anything to please Betty.

He was saddling Blackleg after breakfast, intending to go down the
river a short distance, when he became aware that Betty was standing
near him. Without a word she handed him a bulky envelope with his name
written on it. He took it, tore open an end, and a piece of paper,
enclosing several bills, slipped out. He shot a quick glance at Betty;
she was looking at him unconcernedly. He counted the bills; there were
ten one hundred dollar gold certificates.

"What's this for?" he demanded.

"Read the letter," she directed.

He unfolded the paper. It read:

"MY DEAR SON: The money in this envelope is to be used by you in buying
material to be used to repair the ranchhouse. I have prepared an
itemized list of the necessary materials, which Betty will give you.
Your acceptance of the task imposed on you will indicate that you
intend to fulfill my wishes. It will also mean that you seriously
contemplate an attempt at reform. The fact that you receive this money
shows that you are already making progress, for you would never get it
if Betty thought you didn't deserve it, or were not worthy of a trial.
I congratulate you.

"YOUR FATHER."

"Got it all framed up on me, eh?" said Calumet. "So you think I've
made progress, an' that I'm goin' to do what you want me to do?"

"Your progress hasn't been startling," she said dryly. "But you _have_
progressed. At least, you have shown some inclination to listen to
reason. Here is the itemized list which your father speaks of." She
passed over another paper, which Calumet scanned slowly and carefully.
His gaze became fixed on the total at the bottom of the column of
figures.

"It amoun