"About fifteen or eighteen miles," she answered. "The trail leads there from the lower end of this valley--the same trail you came on, I guess. Are you a cow-puncher?" "Don't I look like one, miss?" "Yes, you do and--you don't." She was confused by the quality of his smile. But his eyes seemed to glow at her kindly, with a cheerful, amused light--altogether honest and friendly. She lowered her gaze and flushed despite herself. "My vocation, miss--you're too young an' pretty to be called ma'am, if you'll excuse me for saying so--is a peculiar one. I've punched cows, yes; I've prospected an' worked a bit in the mines. I've scared the wolf from the 'Welcome' mat by standing off the boys at green-topped tables, an' once I--I--worked on a sort of farm." He appeared apologetic as he confessed this last. "I guess I wasn't cut out for a farm hand, miss." She laughed at this. "Are you going to work in Dry Lake?" she asked, sobering. "Well, now, that is a question," he returned, draining his cup of the last of the coffee. "I'll get you some more," she said quickly, taking his cup. "Dry Lake isn't a very big place, you know." "Just how big _is_ Dry Lake?" he asked when she returned from the kitchen with more coffee for him. "Only a hundred or two. But the men from miles and miles go there because--because there are places there where they can stand the wolf off at the green-topped tables and--drink." The troubled look was in her eyes again. "Sometimes the wolf catches up with them before they get home," she added, smiling faintly. "It's not a safe system," he said thoughtfully. "But you might get work in Dry Lake," she said hopefully. "You--you look capable. The cattlemen from back in the hills go there and they're nearly always looking for men, I've heard. You might meet some of them and get a job." He beamed upon her. "I've always heard that a woman gave a man encouragement an' ambition, if she was a good one," he mused. "You've almost got me thinking I'd better go straight to work." "Why--didn't--wasn't that your intention?" she asked wonderingly. His face clouded. "It ain't always so easy for me to do what I want to do, miss," he said. "I--you see----" He broke off his speech with a frown. "This is a queer country, miss," he said earnestly. "Oh, I know," she said eagerly. "I'll bet you're an--an officer!" Then he laughed. It was the spontaneous laugh of youth, vibrant, compelling, mirth-inspiring. "Say, miss, if there's one thing I ain't tackled yet, it's being an officer," he chuckled as he finished his repast. She smiled vaguely, studying him under her long, dark lashes. The boy came into the room, holding his hands behind him, and stood with his sturdy legs braced apart, staring at Rathburn. "There he is now!" Rathburn exclaimed. "Did you try to wash the freckles off?" he queried with a wink. "I know who _you_ are!" said the boy. There was admiration and awe in his wide eyes.