rt. They met
often, but in ranch life discourse is not frequent, and Jo instinctively
felt that his recital of Love's Young Dream had fallen upon unsympathetic
ears, while the foreman, unversed in the Language of Love, was mystified
by the lad's silence.

Three weeks later the "man without a nose for orange blossoms" was again
in town. As acting sheriff of the county lately, Kurt had dropped in to
see the jailer.

"How's business, Bender? Any new boarders?" he asked.

"Yes; a gal run in for stealing. Didn't find the goods on her; but she's a
sly one with the record of being a lifelong thief. She strayed up here
from Chicago."

"What's her name?" he asked casually.

"Marta Sills."

"I wonder if it could be Jo's Marta," the acting sheriff thought suddenly.
"She may have followed him up here."

He walked back to the hotel, trying to decide whether he should tell Jo.
If she should prove to be his girl, her arrest up here should show him
that his love hadn't worked the miracle he expected. Jo had been a little
more quiet since his return, but he gave no signs of pining away, and
maybe if nothing revived his interest, it might die a natural death. The
story Jo had told him of the little waif had made a deep impression upon
him, however.

"Poor little brat!" he thought. "What chance does her kind have? I suppose
I ought to give her one. There is one person in the world who might be
able to reform her, and I'd put her in that person's charge if it weren't
for wrecking Jo's life."

All through the afternoon while transacting the business that had brought
him to town, his heart and his head were having a wrestling match, the
former being at the disadvantage of being underworked.

"I'll go up and take a look at her," he suddenly decided. "Maybe I can
tell from Jo's description whether she is his Marta or not."

On his way to the jail he was accosted by a big, jovial man.

"Don't know where I can get an extra helper, do you, Kurt? Simpson, my
right-hand, has gone back to Canada to enlist."

"How providential!" thought Kurt.

"Why, yes; Mr. Westcott," he replied: "We're well up with our work, and I
could spare Jo Gary for a few weeks."

"Jo Gary! May Heaven bless you! When can I get him?"

"Going out home now?"

"Yes; on my way."

"Stop at the ranch and take him along with you. Tell him I said to go.
It'll be all right with Kingdon."

Westcott renewed his blessings upon Kurt and drove on.

At the jail Kurt