rew any worse she thought she would hate Glenn.
Yet she was nonetheless set upon going on, and seeing the sheep-dip, and
riding that fiendish mustang until the trip was ended.

Getting in the saddle and on the way this morning was an ordeal that
made Carley actually sick. Glenn and Flo both saw how it was with
her, and they left her to herself. Carley was grateful for this
understanding. It seemed to proclaim their respect. She found further
matter for satisfaction in the astonishing circumstance that after
the first dreadful quarter of an hour in the saddle she began to feel
easier. And at the end of several hours of riding she was not suffering
any particular pain, though she was weaker.

At length the cut-over land ended in a forest of straggling pines,
through which the road wound southward, and eventually down into a wide
shallow canyon. Through the trees Carley saw a stream of water, open
fields of green, log fences and cabins, and blue smoke. She heard the
chug of a gasoline engine and the baa-baa of sheep. Glenn waited for
her to catch up with him, and he said: "Carley, this is one of Hutter's
sheep camps. It's not a--a very pleasant place. You won't care to see
the sheep-dip. So I'm suggesting you wait here--"

"Nothing doing, Glenn," she interrupted. "I'm going to see what there is
to see."

"But, dear--the men--the way they handle sheep--they'll--really it's no
sight for you," he floundered.

"Why not?" she inquired, eying him.

"Because, Carley--you know how you hate the--the seamy side of things.
And the stench--why, it'll make you sick!"

"Glenn, be on the level," she said. "Suppose it does. Wouldn't you think
more of me if I could stand it?"

"Why, yes," he replied, reluctantly, smiling at her, "I would. But I
wanted to spare you. This trip has been hard. I'm sure proud of you.
And, Carley--you can overdo it. Spunk is not everything. You simply
couldn't stand this."

"Glenn, how little you know a woman!" she exclaimed. "Come along and
show me your old sheep-dip."

They rode out of the woods into an open valley that might have been
picturesque if it had not been despoiled by the work of man. A log fence
ran along the edge of open ground and a mud dam held back a pool of
stagnant water, slimy and green. As Carley rode on the baa-baa of sheep
became so loud that she could scarcely hear Glenn talking.

Several log cabins, rough hewn and gray with age, stood down inside the
inclosure; and beyond