I'll get water, and there's a basin." He already was leading the way.
"Make yourself at home--Zen. May I call you Zen?" he added, in a lower
voice, as they left Y.D. at a distance.

"Everybody calls me Zen."

They were standing at the door of the tent, he holding back the flap
that she might enter. The valley was already in shadow, and there was no
sunlight to play on her hair, but her face and figure in the mellow
dusk seemed entirely winsome and adorable. There was no taint of Y.D.'s
millions in the admiration that Transley bent upon her.... Of course, as
an adjunct, the millions were not to be despised.

When the men had finished supper Transley summoned her. On the way to
the chuck-wagon she passed close to George Drazk. It was evident that
he had chosen a station with that result in view. She had passed by when
she turned, whimsically.

"Well, George, how's that Pete-horse?" she said.

"Up an comin' all the time, Zen," he answered.

She bit her lip over his familiarity, but she had no come-back. She had
given him the opening, by calling him "George."

"You see, I got quite well acquainted with Mr. Drazk when he came back
to hunt for a horse blanket which had mysteriously disappeared," she
explained to Transley.

They ascended the steps which led from the ground into the wagon. The