the dodge gate."

The corral was a crude affair, built at the minimum of expense, of
crooked cottonwood poles, willow sticks and brush interlaced. It was
divided into three sections, with a chute running from the larger
division into two smaller ones.

Kate was standing at the "dodge gate" at the end of the chute separating
the sheep as they came through by throwing the gate to and fro, thus
sending each into the division in which it belonged. It was work which
required intense concentration, a trained eye and quick brain, and even
Disston and Teeters, who knew nothing of sheep, could appreciate the
remarkable skill with which the girl performed the task.

"Let 'em come, Uncle Joe!" she called in her clear confident voice.

Mormon Joe flapped a grain sack over the backs of the sheep and having
started a leader the rest went through the chute on the run.

When the last one was through Kate's aching arm dropped limply to her
side and she called in a tired but jubilant voice:

"I don't believe I've made a single mistake this time."

Mormon Joe's expression was not too friendly when he saw strangers but
it changed upon recognizing Teeters.

"Maybe you don't remember this here gent," said that person, indicating
Disston with his thumb after he and Mormon Joe had shaken hands. "He's
growed about four feet since you saw him."

"I remember him very well." Mormon Joe's tone and manner had the suavity
and polish which was so at variance with his general appearance.

Hughie, leaving Teeters and Mormon Joe to a conversation which did not
interest him, rode up to see Kate at closer range.

Busy in one of the pens, the girl was still unaware of visitors, so he
had had ample opportunity to observe her before she saw him.

She, too, had grown since their meeting, being now as tall and straight
and slim as an Olympian runner. Her hair swung in a thick fair braid far
below her waist as she darted hither and thither in pursuit of a lamb.
The man's blue flannel shirt she wore was faded and the ragged sleeves
had been cut off at the elbow for convenience. Her short skirt was of
stiff blue denim and a pair of coarse brown and white cotton stockings
showed between the hem and the tops of boys' shoes which disguised the
slenderness of her feet. Yet, withal, she was graceful as she ran and
somehow managed to look picturesque.

The boy's face was an odd mixture of expressions as he watched
her--amusement, astonishment, disapproval