the water Felicia brought him and looked at Charley curiously. She was
the first person since his mother had died who had been able to ease his
outbursts of temper. Felicia was still aggrieved. She looked at Roger
reproachfully.

"We were coming down to call on you and now you've spoiled it."

Roger jumped to his feet with a laugh. "I'll go home at once. Come
along."

"No, we've got to dress up. It's going to be a regular call," said the
child.

"We were coming down about half past four to bring you back to supper
with us," said Charley.

Roger was suddenly conscious of the fact that he had a day's beard on
his face. He started down the trail, hastily, after retrieving his gun.

"I'll be glad to see you ladies whenever you call," he said, "but I'm
not going to promise not to shoot Crazy Dutch if he comes round again."

The call, which was made with due ceremony at the hour mentioned, was a
great success. Roger, fresh shaved, and quite recovered from the shock
of Von Minden's visit, played host with just enough formality to delight
Felicia. Charley was deeply interested in the plans for the Sun Plant.
It was the first time Roger had explained his general scheme of solar
heating to her and he was surprised by her eager intelligence.

The sun was setting when they started back to the ranch house, with
Felicia chatting like a magpie. Roger did the milking and the other
chores, by the light of a "bug."

Charley gave them a simple supper, but the beans and bacon, hot biscuit
and canned blackberries seemed extraordinarily delicious to Roger. He
and Felicia washed the supper dishes while Charley put a batch of bread
to rise.

The evening tasks finished, they established themselves before the
living-room fire. Roger lighted his pipe.

"Can't I sit up till quarter after eight to-night, Charley?" asked
Felicia.

"You wanted to do that last night," replied Charley.

"And you wouldn't let me. Won't you to-night?"

"No, dear."

"Then," great eyes on the implacable face of the alarm clock, "I've only
five minutes to sit up. Charley, I can't bear it."

"Oh, yes, you can," said Roger. "Think how awful it would be if you had
to go to bed at half-past seven. That's what happened to me when I was
your age."

"Didn't your mother love you? I don't see how she could help it. You
must have been a cunning boy."

"I was a long-legged, awkward, freckle-faced brat, but she loved me.
Mothers are like that."

Felicia nodded