oddly with her feelings towards the other man she had met, for in
this country there were but two. When Glenister was with her she
saw his love lying nakedly in his eyes and it exercised some spell
which drew her to him in spite of herself, but when he had gone,
back came the distrust, the terror of the brute she felt was there
behind it all. The one appealed to her while present, the other
pled strongest while away. Now she was attempting to analyze her
feelings and face the future squarely, for she realized that her
affairs neared a crisis, and this, too, not a month after meeting
the men. She wondered if she would come to love her uncle's
friend. She did not know. Of the other she was sure--she never
could.

Busied with these reflections, she noticed the familiar figure of
Dextry wandering aimlessly. He was not unkempt, and yet his air
gave her the impression of prolonged sleeplessness. Spying her, he
approached and seated himself in the sand against the boat, while
at her greeting he broke into talk as if he was needful only of
her friendly presence to stir his confidential chords into active
vibration.

"We're in turrible shape, miss," he said. "Our claim's jumped.
Somebody run in and talked the boy out of it while I was gone, and
now we can't get 'em off. He's been tryin' this here new law game
that you-all brought in this summer. I've been drunk--that's what
makes me look so ornery."

He said the last, not in the spirit of apology, for rarely does
your frontiersman consider that his self-indulgences require
palliation, but rather after the manner of one purveying news of