The Ozark spectator., 1917-05-30

wouldn't be young folks enough left to milk the cows."
 "Henry, what is this report about the | Calabasas barns burningT' '"rhe old Number One barn is gone
 and some of the old stages. We didn't lose any horses, and the other barns are all right. Some of our Calabasas
 or gap friends, probably. No matter, we'll get them all rounded up after
 while, Nan. Then, some fine day,
 we're going to get married" De Spain rode that night to Gala
 basas to look into the story of the fire. | McAlpin, swathed in bandages, made | no bones about accusing the common | enemy. No witnesses could be found to throw any more light on the inquiry than the barn boss himself. And De Spain made only pretense of n formal investigation. If he had had my doubts about the origin of the fire they would have been resolved by an anony- nous scrawl, sent through the mail. promising more If he didn't get out of the country.
 But instead of getting out of the country, De Spain continued as mat ter of energetic policy to get into 1t. He rode the deserts stripped. so to say, for action and walked the streets of Sleepy Cat welcoming every chance to meet men from Music mountain or the sinks. It was on Nan that the real hardships of the situation fell, and Nan who had to bear them alone and almost unaided.
 Duke came home day or two later without word for Nan concerning his encounter with De Spain. He was shorter in the grain than ever, crustier to everyone than she had ever known him-and toward Nan herself fiercely pany great deal, and Nan knew of old that Sassoon was bad symptom. Gale. too, came often, and the three | were much together. In some way, Nan felt that she herself was in part the subject of their talks, but no infor- nation concerning them could she ever get.
 One morning she sat on the porch sewing when Gale rode up. He asked for her uncle. Bonita told him Duke
 had gone to Calabasas. Gale an nounced he was bound for Calabasas himself, and dismounted near Nan. professedly to cinch his saddle. He fussed with the straps for minute, trying to engage Nan in the interval. without success, in conversation. Look l.re, Man." he said at length. studious- ly amiable, "don't you think you're pretty hard on me, lately?" "NO, don't" she answered: If Uncle Duke didn't make me, I'd never look at you, or speak to you-or live in the same mountains with you"
 "I don't think when fellow cares for you as much as I do, and gets out of patience once In q while, just be- cause he loves a girl the way rec- blooded man can't help loving her. she ought to hold 1t against him forever. Think she ought to. Nan?" he demand ed after n pause. She was sewing and kept silence.
 "I think" she responded, showing her aversion In every syllable, "bcfore a man begins to talk red-b,Ood rot, he ought to find out whether the girl cares for him. or just loathes the sight of him"
 He regarded her flxedly. Paying no attention to him. but bending in the sunshine over her sewing. her hand fly ing with the needle. her masses of brown hair sweeping back around her pink ears and curling in stray ringlets that the wind danced with while she worked. she inflamed her brawny cous- in's ardor afresh. "You used to care for me. Nan. You can't deny that" Her silence was irritating. "Can your he demanded. "Come. put up your work and talk 1t out. I didn't use to have to coax you for word nnd Q smile. Whats come over youT"
 "Nothlng has come over me, Gale. did use to like you-when I first came back from school. You seemed so big md fine then, and were so nice to me. did like you"
 "Why didn't you keep on liking meT'
 Nan made no answer. Her cousin persisted. "You used to talk about thinking the world of me-" she said at last; "then saw you oae Frontier day, riding around Sleepy Cat with car rlage full of women."
 Gale burst into Il huge laugh. Mans face flushed. She bent over her work. ! "Oh. that's what's the matter with you, is it?" he demanded jocularly. "You ! never mentioned that before" |