had risen, and she leaned hurriedly over a pan in which meat was frying.

"Any results?" she asked.

"Some."

She waited, knowing that the story would come at length.

He added after a moment: "Strange how careless some people get to be."

"Yes?" she queried.

"Yes."

Another pause, during which he casually drummed his fingers on his
knee. She saw that he must receive more encouragement before he would
tell, and she gave it, smiling to herself. Women are old in certain
ways of understanding in which men remain children forever.

"I suppose we're still broke, Pierre?"

"Broke? Well, not entirely. I got some results."

"Good."

"As a matter of fact, it was a pretty fair haul. Watch that meat,
Jack; I think it's burning."

It was hardly beginning to cook, but she turned it obediently and hid
another slow smile. Rising, she passed behind his chair, and pretended
to busy herself with something near the wall. This was the environment
and attitude which would make him talk most freely, she knew.

"Speaking of careless men," said Pierre, "I could tell you a yarn,
Jack."

She stood close behind him and made about his unconscious head a
gesture of caress, the overflow of an infinite tenderness.

"I'd sure like to hear it, Pierre."

"Well, it was like this: I knew a fellow who started on the range with
a small stock of cattle. He wasn't a very good worker, and he didn't
understand cattle any too well, so he didn't prosper for quite a while.
Then his affairs took a sudden turn for the better; his herd began to
increase. Nobody understood the reason, though a good many suspected,
but one man fell onto the reason: our friend was simply running in a
few doggies on the side, and he'd arranged a very ingenious way of
changing the brands."

"Pierre--"

"Well?"

"What does 'ingenious' mean?"

"Why, I should say it means 'skilful, clever,' and it carries with it
the connotation of 'novel.'"

"It carries the con-conno--what's that word, Pierre?"

"I'm going to get some books for you, Jack, and we'll do a bit of
reading on the side, shall we?"

"I'd love that!"

He turned and looked up to her sharply.

He said: "Sometimes, Jack, you talk just like a girl."

"Do I? That's queer, isn't it? But go on with the story."

"He changed the brands very skilfully, and no one got the dope on him
except this one man I mentioned; and that man kept his face shut. He
waited.

"So it went on for a good many