eing accustomed to treat every one with kindliness, she asked
him gravely whom he wished to see.

"Is Mrs. Nelson at home?" he asked ingratiatingly.

"Why, yes," hesitated Betty, then her natural courtesy getting the
better of the dislike she felt for this person, she added politely:
"Won't you come in? I will call mother."

With blandly murmured thanks the owner of the checked suit stepped over
the threshold, his eyes still on Betty to such an extent that she was
glad to be able to slip upstairs out of his sight.

"Mother," she explained hurriedly, finding that lady in her pretty
dressing room, "there's a horrid person downstairs who wants to see you.
I don't like his looks, and if you don't want to see him I can tell him
you aren't at home----"

"Heavens, Betty, is he as bad as all that?" asked Mrs. Nelson, as she
rose hastily and gave an automatic pat to her hair. "I hope he doesn't
steal the silver. You shouldn't have left him alone, dear----" and with
these words she swept out of the room and down the stairs.

Betty heard her greet the man, and then slipped off to her own room and
picked up some half-finished embroidery.

"I hope he doesn't bother mother too much," she mused aloud. "I never
saw a more unpleasant looking person in my life. I wonder what he can
want, anyway."

It was fully half an hour later that she heard the closing door
downstairs that told her their unwelcome visitor had left. A minute
later her mother herself opened the door of Betty's room, looking so
troubled and unsettled that Betty jumped to her feet in quick alarm.

"Mother, did that man say anything to make you feel bad?" she cried.
"Because, if he did----"

"No, no, dear," said Mrs. Nelson, sinking into a chair, while her eyes
sought the window thoughtfully. "I am worried, that's all."

Betty drew a low chair over beside her mother, and, sitting down, took
Mrs. Nelson's hand in both her own.

"Tell me, dear," she urged.

Mrs. Nelson drew her troubled gaze away from the window and looked at
the Little Captain intently.

"Betty," she said, "there is something strange about this Gold Run Ranch
of ours. This man----"

"Yes?" prompted Betty, as her mother paused.

"This man who called this morning wanted to buy the ranch for a western
client of his. It seems this client is willing to pay me my own
price--within reasonable limits of course. He seemed so strangely eager
to make a deal with me----"

"Yes?" prompted Betty aga