ck up like a catamount and tear at
the eyes of me like you'd put them out."

"It wouldn't be that way, Dad--can't you see I don't care for him? If
I cared, he wouldn't have to have any money, and you wouldn't have to
argue with me, to make me marry him."

"It's that stubborn you are!" said Tim, his softness freezing over in
a breath.

"Let's not talk about it, Dad," she pleaded, turning to him, the tears
undried on her cheeks, the sorrow of the years he had made slow and
heavy for her in her eyes.

"It must be talked about, it must be settled, now and for good, Joan.
I have plans for you, I have great plans, Joan."

"I don't want to change it now, I'm satisfied with the arrangement
we've made on the sheep, Dad. Let me go on like I have been, studying
my lessons and looking after the sheep with Charley. I'm satisfied the
way it is."

"I've planned better things for you, Joan, better from this day
forward, and more to your heart. Mackenzie is all well enough for
teachin' a little school of childer, but he's not deep enough to be
over the likes of you, Joan. I'm thinkin' I'll send you to Cheyenne to
the sisters' college at the openin' of the term; very soon now, you'll
be makin' ready for leavin' at once."

"I don't want to go," said Joan, coldly.

"There you'd be taught the true speech of a lady, and the twist of the
tongue on French, and the nice little things you've missed here among
the sheep, Joan darlin', and that neither me nor your mother nor John
Mackenzie--good lad that he is, though mistaken at times, woeful
mistaken in his judgment of men--can't give you, gerrel."

"No, I'll stay here and work my way out with the sheep," said she.

Tim was standing at her side, a bit behind her, and she turned a
little more as she denied him, her head so high she might have been
listening to the stars. He looked at her with a deep flush coming into
his brown face, a frown narrowing his shrewd eyes.

"Ain't you that stubborn, now!" he said.

"Yes, I am," said Joan.

"Then," said Tim, firing up, the ashes of deceit blowing from the fire
of his purpose at once, "you'll take what I offer or leave what you've
got! I'll have no more shyin' and shillyin' out of you, and me with my
word passed to old Malcolm Reid."

Joan wheeled round, her face white, fright in her eyes.

"You mean the sheep?" she asked.

"I mean the sheep--just that an' no less. Do as I'll have you do, and
go on to school to be put in polish for t