To Beth Rathburn, it was ridiculous that Disston should take seriously this girl who, at the moment, was considerably less presentable than any one of their own servants--that he should treat her with all the deference he showed to any woman of his acquaintance, as if she were of his own class exactly! And a worse offense was his obviously keen interest in her. It was a new sensation for the southern girl to be ignored, or at least omitted from the conversation, and each second her resentment grew, though the underlying cause was that she felt herself overshadowed by Kate's stronger personality. To remind Disston of his remissness she walked over to a pen where Bowers, astride a powerful buck, saw in hand, was having his own troubles. She returned almost immediately, shuddering prettily: "He's sawing that sheep's horn off! Doesn't it hurt it?" "Not nearly so much as letting it grow to put its eye out." "I presume you do that, too?" The girl's eyes and tone were mocking. "Oh, yes, I do everything that's necessary." There was something savage in Kate's composure as she turned directly and looked at her. "I have sheared sheep when I had no money to pay herders, slept out in the hills on the ground on a saddle blanket with my saddle for a pillow. I've made my underwear out of flour sacks and my skirts of denim. I've lived on corn meal and salt pork and dried apples and rabbits for months at a time. I eat and hobnob with sheepherders from one year's end to the other. I'm out with a drop bunch in the lambing season, and I brand the bucks myself--on the nose--burn them with a hot iron. I'll send you word when I'm going to do it again and you can come over--it's e-normously amusing. Just wait a minute--come over to the fence here--and I'll show you something. I'm even more deliciously unique than you imagine." She walked to the gate and vaulted it easily. Hughie and Beth could do no less than follow as far as the fence, while Kate stood searching the band of sheep that milled about her. When she found what she sought, she made one of her swift swoops, caught the sheep by the hind leg and threw it with a dextrous twist. Then holding it between her knees, she took a knife from her pocket and tested the edge of the blade with her thumb. The girl at the fence cried aghast: "Oh, what's she going to do?" Then she clutched Disston's arm and stared in fascinated horror while Kate ear-marked the sheep and released it. "She's barbarous--horrible--impossible!" "You brought it on yourself, Beth," he reminded her in a low tone. "You--goaded her," "And you defend her?" she demanded, furiously. "Take me away from here--I'm nauseated!" "I'll say good-bye--you go on, and I'll join you." He vaulted the fence and went up to Kate, who was going on with her work and ignoring them. "Kate," he put out his hand, "I'm sorry." She disregarded it and turned upon him, her eyes blazing: