“Won’t Brand be coming soon?” the child wanted to know. “The Rainbow Cliff is shining, so it’s getting late.” “Soon—very soon, honey,” said Nance smilingly, “I heard Dirk bark in the buck-brush yonder a little while ago.” In the room beyond Mrs. Allison rocked contentedly. “Nance,” she said, “you know this here carpet always makes me think of the floor of the woods, somehow, with its brown an’ white. It’s so fresh an’ fair an’ soft.” “That’s why I got that warp,” said Nance happily, “I felt it would—and it does so. Yes, it does so. Run, Sonny—yonder’s Brand and Bud!” Brand and Bud, riding up from the waters of Nameless in the evening haze, Diamond and Buckskin drawing long breaths of satisfaction at the sight of home. Nance rose and waited for the lean dark man who swung down and came to her with Sonny on his shoulder. As he stooped to lay his lips to hers he looked long and tenderly into her blue eyes. “Heart of my heart!” he whispered. “How’s all, Brand?” called the mother as she spread a cloth on the scoured table preparatory to “feeding her men-folk” as she phrased it. Brand Fair hung his hat on a nail and turned to the well as Bud came whistling up the path. “Fine, Mammy,” he called back, “everything at Sky Line’s doing well. Rod and Minnie make things move, and I can trust them. The only thing that jars is old Josefa who never fails to tell me that all half-breeds are fools, and that white men can’t be trusted. And then she bakes an extra pie for Rod and smiles at Minnie proudly. Yes—all’s well. All’s well on Nameless, eh, old-timer?” And swinging the boy once more to his shoulder, he followed young Bud in across the sill.