t vagrant strands of her coppery golden hair.

"Fifteen miles an hour," said Casey. "Like it?"

"It's better than fifty in a car," she replied.

"The difference between God-made and man-made horsepower. Some people
can't appreciate it."

"I can. It isn't the end--the pace alone. It's the means to the end."

"Plus the love of human flesh and blood for other flesh and blood.
You've got it. I won't keep them at this. Too warm."

It was late afternoon when Chakchak came into view. It appeared
suddenly as they swung around the corner of a butte, lying below them,
the emerald of its fields drenched with the gold of the sloping sun.

"My kingdom!" said Casey. "Welcome to it!"

Clyde was surprised, in a measure disappointed. She had pictured it
differently. With her the word "ranch" had connoted large prairie
areas, bald landscapes, herds of cattle, lonely horsemen, buildings
more or less ugly, unrelieved by any special surroundings. Here were
green fields, trees, water, painted barns, and a neat little house of
the bungalow type.

"Why," she exclaimed, "it's a farm!"

"Thank you," he responded; "that's what we're trying to make it. Only
out here we call them 'ranches.' Slightly more picturesque term,
glorified by fiction, calculated to appeal to the imagination. Gives
the impression of a free, breezy life in which the horse does all the
work. Invaluable in selling land. But in strict confidence I may say
that work on a farm in the East and on a ranch in the West are
twins--you can't tell t'other from which."

McHale appeared as they drove up, to relieve Casey of the horses. He
was freshly shaven, and dressed with unusual care. Feng, in white
jacket and apron, grinned from his quarters, appraising the "_hiyu_
lich gal," with an eye to possible dollars.

"Now, this house," Casey explained, as they entered, "belongs to you
three. It's yours to have, hold, and occupy for your sole use and
benefit while you are here. Is that sufficiently legal, Wade? The
Chinaman is yours, too. He takes his orders from you. Mrs. Wade, your
room is there. Miss Burnaby, that one is intended for you. But if you
like to change about, do so, by all means."

"And which is your room?" Wade asked.

"I'm bunking in one of the other buildings."

"What? We're putting you out of your own house!" Wade exclaimed. "That
won't do, Casey, really it won't. We won't let you."

"Of course not," his wife concurred.

"Indeed we won't," said Clyde.