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t give it to you, I am no man at all!" CHAPTER XIII MAINLY ABOUT CHETWOOD When Angus came to investigate the damage wrought by the hail, he found it very complete. There would be no grain to thresh. It turned out that his had been the only ranch to suffer, the swath of the storm having missed his neighbors. It seemed the climax of the bad luck which had attended that twenty-four hours. Jean, when she saw that her brother was absolutely determined that she should have another year of study, gave in, knowing nothing of the money he had borrowed. In the fortnight that elapsed before her departure, she was very busy, not only with her own preparations, but with preserving, pickling and mending for the ranch. During this time Chetwood was an intermittent visitor. On these visits most of his time was spent in Jean's vicinity. Thus, on the eve of her departure, when she was very busy with a final batch of preserves, he appeared in the door. In his eyes, Jean, uniformed in a voluminous blue apron, her face flushed and her strong young arms bare, made a very charming picture. But Jean did not know that. She was extremely hot and somewhat sticky, and believed herself to be untidy. She felt all the discomfort and none of the dignity of labor. Hence her greeting was not cordial. "I haven't time to stop," she said, indicating preserving kettle and jars with a wave of a dripping ladle. "You had better go and find the boys." "Please let me stay. I like to watch you." "I don't like being watched. You can't find much amusement in watching me work." "Very jolly thing, work," Chetwood observed gravely. "Bosh!" Miss Jean returned. She eyed her guest with pardonable irritation. "What do you know about work?" she demanded. "Why--er--not a great deal, I'm afraid," he admitted. "Then don't talk nonsense." "But it isn't nonsense. I mean to say work keeps one occupied, you know." "I notice it keeps me occupied," Miss Jean retorted, still more irritated by this profound observation. "I mean one gets tired of doing nothing." "Then why doesn't one do something?" she snapped. Chetwood regarded her whimsically. "I'm afraid you mean me." "Well," said Miss Jean, "I would like to see you busy at something, instead of looking so blessed cool and--and lazy." "Oh, I say!" "A man who doesn't work in this country," Jean stated severely, "is out of place." "But a man who is out of a place doesn't work,
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