ve by the door and a cupboard beside it, the shelves of
which were crowded with books whose titles made the sheriff's eyes open.
A Latin grammar, a Roman history, the "Story of the French Revolution,"
mythology, and many others that might as well have been Greek for all
the meaning their titles conveyed to the deputy.

"Whew!" he whistled softly. He had no idea that Mormon Joe's Kate had
any education. He had the impression that she was, in his own
phraseology, "a tough customer." Mormon Joe must have taught her, he
reflected. There never was any doubt about his learning when it suited
him to display it. The discovery increased the sheriff's curiosity to
see the girl.

Continuing his investigations, he opened one of the drawers that pulled
out from beneath the bunk, and closed it hastily--but not too soon to
see that the undergarments it contained were made of flour sacks which
had been ripped, laundered and fashioned clumsily by a hand unused to
sewing. In the drawer on the other side there were clippings giving
recipes for improving the complexion, hair treatments, care of the teeth
and nails, and other aids to beauty.

Lingle smiled as he glanced at them. Evidently she had traits that were
distinctly feminine. In addition, there were writing materials and a
packet of letters addressed in a masculine hand that looked unformed and
youthful. They were tied with a pink ribbon, and had the appearance of
having been read frequently. Lingle fingered the packet uncertainly and
then threw it back in the drawer impatiently.

"Thunder!" he muttered, "I ain't paid to snoop through a woman's
letters."

On the southern slope of a foothill where the snow lay less deep than on
the northern and eastern exposures, Kate stood on the sunny side of a
brown boulder leaning her shoulder against it as she watched the sheep
below her nibbling at the spears of dried bunch grass which thrust
themselves above the surface. Her rifle stood against a rock where she
could reach it easily, and her horse fed near her, pawing through the
snow, like an experienced "rustler."

She was dressed to meet the weather in boys' boots and arctics, woolen
mittens, riding skirt of heavy blue denim, the fleece-lined canvas coat
of the sheepherder, and a coonskin cap with ear-laps. Her face wore an
expression that was both sad and troubled as she mechanically watched
such sheep as showed a disposition to stray, and kept an eye out for
coyotes.

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