If Bud knew and feared the change, he also knew the cause of it. Neither he nor Nan were blind to the drama silently working out in the other household. It was bitterly plain and almost heart-breaking to the onlookers. The same roof sheltered husband and wife. But no unnecessary word was spoken between them. Their meals were taken apart. They were as completely and coldly separate as though they occupied opposite poles. And the girl who recognized these things, and the man who watched them, only wondered how long it must be before the final disaster came upon them. Jeff's moods had become extraordinarily variable. There were moments when his moroseness became threatening. The canker at his heart was communicating itself to his whole outlook, and herein lay the failure in his work. It was the realization of all this which stirred Bud's impatience. He knew that unless a radical change was quickly brought about, the vaunted Obar had certainly reached and probably passed its zenith. Finally, he opened his heart to the sure sympathy of Nan. He had purposely taken her with him on a boundary inspection amongst the foothills. They were riding through a silent hollow where quiet seemed to lie on the top of everything. Even their horses' hoofs failed to make an impression upon it. Peace was crowding the woodland slopes, a peace profound and unbreakable. "The Obar's struck a mighty bad patch, Nan," he said abruptly. "Ef things kep hittin' their present gait, why, I don't jest see wher' we're to strike bottom. The pinch ain't yet, but you can't never kick out a prop without shakin' the whole darned buildin' mighty bad. An' that's how the Obar's fixed. Ther's a mighty big punch gone plumb out o' Jeff's fight, an', well, I guess we're needin' all our punch to fix the things crowdin' around us." "You mean the rustlers?" Nan drove to the heart things without hesitation. "Sure. Them an'--other things." The girl nodded. She knew the other things without asking. "Jeff's in a heap of--trouble," she said with a sigh. "An' looks like carryin' us along with him--ef we ain't watchin' around." "We've always kind of leaned on Jeff." "Most folks are ready to lean, Nan. It sort o' saves 'em a deal of trouble." "Yes. Till you kick the prop away." "Sure. Our prop's been kicked away, an' we've jest got to git right up on to our hind legs an'--git busy. The leanin' racket's played out fer us. We got to hand Jeff a prop now, an' see it don't git kicked away. See?" For some moments the girl's gaze searched straight ahead of her down the valley. And into her eyes there grew a gentle light of enthusiasm. Suddenly she turned upon the great figure on its horse beside her.