ey bred it east of the
Mizoo. The ones mama an' I've seen around the theaters an' restaurants
on our trips East would turn a man's stomach. Why, damn it, young
woman, if I ever caught a daughter of mine painted up like a Piute
an' stripped to the waist smokin' cigarettes an' drinkin' cocktails in
a public restaurant, I'd peel the rest of her duds off an' turn her
over my knee an' take a quirt to her, if she was forty!"

"Why, _papa_!"

"I would too--an' so would you!" Patty saw the old eyes twinkling with
mischief, and she laughed merrily:

"And so would I," she agreed. "So there's no chance for any argument,
is there?"

"We must go, now," reminded Mrs. Samuelson. "The doctor said you could
not see any visitors yet. He made a special exception of Miss
Sinclair, for just a few minutes."

"I wish you would call me Patty," smiled the girl. "Miss Sinclair
sounds so--so formal----"

"Me, too!" exclaimed the invalid. "I'll go you one better, an' call
you Pat----"

"If you do, I'll call you Pap--" laughed the girl.

"That's a trade! An' say, they tell me you live over in Watts's sheep
camp. If you should happen to run across that reprobate of a Vil
Holland, you tell him to come over here. I want to see him about----"

"There, now, papa--remember the doctor said----"

"I don't care what the doctor said! He's finished his job an' gone,
ain't he? It's bad enough to have to do what he says when you're
sick--but, I'm all right now, an' the quicker he finds out I didn't
hire him for a guardian, the better it'll be all round. As I was goin'
to say, you tell Vil that Old Man Samuelson wants to see him _pronto_.
Fall's comin' on, an' I'll have my hands full this winter with the
horses. He's the only cowman in the hills I'd trust them white faces
with, an' he's got to winter 'em for me. He's a natural born cowman
an' there's big money in it after he gets a start. I'll give him his
start. It's time he woke up, an' left off his damned rock-peckin', an'
settled down. If he keeps on long enough he'll have these hills
whittled down as flat as North Dakota, an' the wind'll blow us all
over into the sheep country. Now, Pat, can you remember all that?"

The girl turned in the doorway, and smiled into the bright old eyes:
"Oh, yes, Pap, I'll tell him if I see him. Good-by!"

"Good-by, an' good luck to you! Come to see us often. We old folks get
pretty lonesome sometimes--especially mama. You see, I've got all the
best of it--I've