ts to nine hundred and sixty dollars," he said, looking at
her, a disgusted expression on his face. "Looks like the old fool was
mighty careless with his money. Couldn't he have put down another item
to cover that forty dollars?"

"I believe that margin was left purposely to take care of a possible
advance in prices over those with which your father was familiar at the
time he made out the list," she answered, smiling in appreciation of
his perturbation.

"That's keepin' cases pretty close, ain't it?" he said. "Suppose I'd
blow the whole business?"

"That would show that you could not be trusted. Your father left
instructions which provide for that contingency."

"What are they?"

"I am not to tell."

"Clever, ain't it?" he said, looking at her with displeased, hostile
eyes. She met his gaze with a calm half-smile which had in it that
irritating quality of advantage that he had noticed before.

"I am glad you think it clever," she returned.

"It was your idea, I reckon?"

"I believe I did suggest it to your father. He was somewhat at a loss
to know how to deal with you. He told me that he had some doubts about
the scheme working; he said you would take it and 'blow' it in, as you
said you might, but I disagreed with him. I was convinced that you
would do the right thing."

"You had a lot of faith in me, didn't you?" he said, incredulously.
"You believed in a man you'd never seen."

"Your father had a picture of you," she said, looking straight at him.
"It was taken when you were fifteen, just before you left the ranch.
It showed a boy with a cynical face and brooding, challenging eyes.
But in spite of all that I thought I detected signs of promise in the
face. I was certain that if you were managed right you could be
reformed."

"You _were_ certain," he said significantly. "What do you think now?"

"I haven't altered my opinion." Her gaze was steady and challenging.
"Of course," she added, blushing faintly; "I believe I was a little
surprised when you came and I saw that you had grown to be a man. You
see, I had looked at your picture so often that I rather expected to
see a boy when you came. I had forgotten those thirteen years. But it
has been said that a man is merely a grown-up boy and there is much
truth in that. Despite your gruff ways, your big voice, and your
contemptible way of treating people, you are very much a boy. But I am
still convinced that you are all right at heart.