Jean would require more money. She was going to take a special,
qualifying course, after which she would be able to teach. But he rather
hoped she would not. Undoubtedly, she livened up the ranch.

Recently Jean had developed. She had grown not only physically but
mentally. She was, Angus realized, a young woman. He had heard Chetwood
ask permission to call at the ranch.

"How do you like this Chetwood?" he asked.

"Where did you meet him?" Miss Jean countered.

"With a couple of the French boys."

"Oh," said Miss Jean, who was under no delusions as to the boys
aforesaid, "then he's apt to need his remittances."

"He seems a decent chap," her brother observed.

"He may be," Miss Jean returned nonchalantly, "but I'm not strong for
these remittance men."

But the black cloud was mounting higher and higher. A gust of cold wind
struck their faces. The dust of the trail rose in clouds, and behind it
they heard the roar of the wind. Beyond that again, as they topped a
rise and obtained a view, a gray veil, dense, opaque, seemed to have
been let down.

"I'm afraid we can't make the ranch without a wetting," Angus said.

"And my best duds, too!" Jean groaned.

A quarter of a mile ahead there was the wreck of an abandoned shack
which might suffice to keep Jean dry, and Angus sent his team into their
collars; but they had not covered half the distance when with a hissing
rush the gray barrier was upon them. And it was not rain, but hail!

The stones varied in size from that of buckshot to robin's eggs. Under
the bombardment the dust puffed from the trail. The horses leaped and
swerved at the pelting punishment, refusing to face it.

"Throw the lap-robe over your head," Angus told Jean, and thereafter was
occupied exclusively with his team.

The colts swung around, cramping the wheel, almost upsetting the rig.
Angus avoided a capsize by a liberal use of the whip, but with the
punishment and the sting and batter of the icy pellets the animals were
frantic. They began to run.

Not being able to help it, Angus let them go, having confidence in his
harness and rig. Just there the road was good, without steep grades or
sharp turns. He let them run for half a mile under a steady pull, and
then after reminding them of their duty by the whip, he began to saw
them down. Inside a few hundred yards he had them under control, and
pulled them, quivering and all a-jump, under the shelter of two giant,
bushy firs.

There Jean