though, there are some that do a little previous deciding before the
male has got right down to the point." Jim was patting Ruth's hands
softly, his eyes full of a new content and his face of strength and
dignity. Not having a New England conscience he did not feel it
necessary to worry, because he could see Ruth cared, and he was willing
to wait for the rest.

They were not talking, so the sound of two voices startled them. Through
a small clump of evergreen trees, not far from the trail along which
they were riding, the smoke of a camp-fire rose in slow circles. A
young woman was seated on the ground nursing a baby, and a man and old
gypsy woman were scolding at each other.

"It's that fellow, Joe Dawson. I have been having an eye open for him
all day," Jim announced curtly, with the sudden sternness in his face
and manner that made him feared even by the people who knew him most
intimately. "I have been wanting to tell him to clear off this ranch. No
matter what business Harmon has with him, he sha'n't stay about here,
now you and the girls have come home."

Jim was riding over toward the gypsies, but Joe had seen him and come
forward.

"Good evening," he remarked. "Pleasant evening for a ride."

Jim frowned and wasted no words.

"Glad I came across you, Dawson," he returned. "I want you to get off
this ranch. I'll give you two days if it takes that much time, but no
longer. I told you I wasn't going to have you hanging about here in the
early part of the summer, but I presume you have been doing some work
for Mr. Harmon, though I never heard of your doing any honest work in
your life."

"Oh, no, I haven't reformed to the extent of some people," Gypsy Joe
remarked sarcastically. "At least I haven't yet taken to playing the
part of 'gardeen' to a parcel of young girls. But look here, John, I can
get ugly same as other folks, and it ain't any the less true for being
an old saying, 'you had better let sleeping dogs lie.' I can wake up and
bite; and I've an idea where it would hurt you the most."

Ruth was walking her horse up and down not far away, trying not to hear
what the two men were saying, but they were so angry that their voices
carried for some distance on the quiet evening air.

"Get off the Rainbow Ranch, Joe Dawson, or you will be put off," Jim
replied roughly, and turned and rode back to Ruth.

The man laughed insolently. "Not if I don't choose to leave, John
Carter," he halloed. "You've made t