cern in his
manner as provoked the traveler's smile.

Mackenzie saw that he was a boy of fifteen or thereabout, dressed in
overalls much too large for him, the bottoms turned up almost to his
knees. Hot as the morning was beginning, the lad had on a duck coat
with sheepskin collar, but in the excitement of beholding a visitor
approaching his camp so early in the day, he took off his hat,
standing so a moment. Then he cut out a streak for the wagon, a few
rods distant, throwing back a half-frightened look as he disappeared
around its side.

This was a very commodious wagon, familiar to Mackenzie from having
seen many like it drawn up for repairs at the blacksmith shops in
Jasper. Its heavy canvas top was stretched tightly over bows, made to
withstand wind and rough weather, a stovepipe projecting through it,
fended about with a broad tin, and a canvas door, with a little window
in it, a commodious step letting down to the ground. Its tongue was
cut short, to admit coupling it close behind the camp-mover's wagon,
and it was a snug and comfortable home on wheels.

The dogs came slowly to meet Mackenzie as he approached, backs still
bristling, countenances unpromising. The boy had disappeared into the
wagon; Mackenzie wondered if he had gone to fetch his gun.

But no. Instead of a gun, came a girl, neither timidity nor fear in
her bearing, and close behind her came the boy, hat still in his hand,
his long, straight hair down about his ears. Mackenzie had stopped a
hundred yards or so distant, not confident of a friendly reception
from the dogs. The girl waved her hand in invitation for him to come
on, and stood waiting at the wagon end.

She was as neatly dressed as the lad beside her was uncouth in his
man-size overalls, her short corduroy skirt belted about with a broad
leather clasped with a gleaming silver buckle, the tops of her tall
laced boots lost beneath its hem. Her gray flannel waist was laced at
the bosom like a cowboy's shirt, adorned at the collar with a flaming
scarlet necktie done in a bow as broad as a band. Her brown sombrero
was tilted, perhaps unintentionally, a little to one side of her
rather pert and independently carried head.

At a word from her the dogs left the way unopposed, and as greetings
passed between the sheepgirl and the stranger the wise creatures stood
beside her, eyeing the visitor over with suspicious mien. Mackenzie
told his name and his business, making inquiry in the same bre