ng. It
needed but the morning cup of coffee to set him beaming upon the world.

Alan Howard's sudden call: 'Can I come in now, folks?' from across a
brief space of sand and brush, found Professor Longstreet on his knees
feeding twigs to a tiny blaze, and hastened Helen through the final
touches of her dressing. Helen was humming softly to herself, her back
to him, her mind obviously concentrated upon the bread she was slicing,
when the stranger swung down from his saddle and came forward. He
stood a moment just behind her, looking at her with very evident
interest in his eyes.

'How do you like our part of the world?' he asked friendliwise.

Helen ignored him briefly. Had Mr. Alan Howard been a bashful young
man of the type that reddens and twists its hat in big nervous hands
and looks guilty in general. Miss Helen Longstreet would have been
swiftly all that was sweet and kind to him. Now, however, from some
vague reason or clouded instinct, she was prepared to be as stiff as
the fanged stalk of a cactus. Having ignored him the proper length of
time, she replied coolly:

'Father and I are very much pleased with the desert country. But, may
I ask just why you speak of it as your part of the world rather than
ours? Are we trespassing, pray?' The afterthought was accompanied by
an upflashing look that was little less than outright challenge.

'Trespassing? Lord, no,' conceded Howard heartily. 'The land is wide,
the trail open at both ends. But you know what I meant.'

Helen shrugged and laid aside the half-loaf. Since she gave him no
answer, Howard went on serenely:

'I mean a man sort of acquires a feeling of ownership in the place in
which he has lived a long time. You and your father are Eastern, not
Western. If I came tramping into your neck of the woods--you see I
call it _yours_. Right enough, too, don't you think, professor?'

'In a way of speaking, yes,' answered the professor. 'In another way,
no. We have given up the old haunts and the old way of living. We are
rather inclined, my dear young sir, to look upon this as our country,
too.'

'Bully for you!' cried Howard warmly. 'You're sure welcome.' His eyes
came back from the father to rest upon the daughter's bronze tresses.
'Welcome as a water-hole in a hot land,' he added emphatically.

'Speaking of water-holes,' suggested Longstreet, sitting back upon his
boot heels in a manner to suggest the favourite squatting position of
the