years
to come there will be room for both sheep and cattle without
overrunnin'. If some of the range is better in water and grass, then
whoever got there first should have it. That shore is only fair. It's
common sense, too."

"Ellen, I reckon some cattle people have been prejudicin' you," said
Jorth, bitterly.

"Dad!" she cried, hotly.

This had grown to be an ordeal for Jorth. He seemed a victim of
contending tides of feeling. Some will or struggle broke within him
and the change was manifest. Haggard, shifty-eyed, with wabbling chin,
he burst into speech.

"See heah, girl. You listen. There's a clique of ranchers down in the
Basin, all those you named, with Isbel at their haid. They have
resented sheepmen comin' down into the valley. They want it all to
themselves. That's the reason. Shore there's another. All the Isbels
are crooked. They're cattle an' horse thieves--have been for years.
Gaston Isbel always was a maverick rustler. He's gettin' old now an'
rich, so he wants to cover his tracks. He aims to blame this cattle
rustlin' an' horse stealin' on to us sheepmen, an' run us out of the
country."

Gravely Ellen Jorth studied her father's face, and the newly found
truth-seeing power of her eyes did not fail her. In part, perhaps in
all, he was telling lies. She shuddered a little, loyally battling
against the insidious convictions being brought to fruition. Perhaps
in his brooding over his failures and troubles he leaned toward false
judgments. Ellen could not attach dishonor to her father's motives or
speeches. For long, however, something about him had troubled her,
perplexed her. Fearfully she believed she was coming to some
revelation, and, despite her keen determination to know, she found
herself shrinking.

"Dad, mother told me before she died that the Isbels had ruined you,"
said Ellen, very low. It hurt her so to see her father cover his face
that she could hardly go on. "If they ruined you they ruined all of
us. I know what we had once--what we lost again and again--and I see
what we are come to now. Mother hated the Isbels. She taught me to
hate the very name. But I never knew how they ruined you--or why--or
when. And I want to know now."

Then it was not the face of a liar that Jorth disclosed. The present
was forgotten. He lived in the past. He even seemed younger 'in the
revivifying flash of hate that made his face radiant. The lines burned
out. Hate gave hi