He did not want to care for this woman and he found himself caring in spite of himself! He rode to town and spent an evening with a waitress from the hotel, taking her to a picture show, paying her broad compliments, seeing her pride rise because of his attentions, and he rode home before daylight, disgusted with himself. His life was being reshaped, his tastes, his desires. His caution against taking chances was being beaten down. She commenced to ride with him regularly and these rides grew longer as she found her body becoming toughened and her endurance greater until they were together many hours each day, until, in fact, escorting her had become Beck's job. The ostensible purpose of this was to learn the country and the manner of range work but though she did learn rapidly their talk was largely personal. Beck was not responsive and the more reserved he became the greater Jane's efforts to force him to talk of himself. These efforts netted her little and after a time she gave up, tentatively, and adopted other means of winning his confidence. Once she helped him gather a bunch of horses that had not been corraled for seasons. The way led down a steep point and Jane was ahead, holding up the bunch while Beck crowded them from behind. She took the descent with a degree of hesitation for the going--so steep that she was forced to clamp a hand behind her cantle to retain a seat--chilled her with fear. On the level she fanned the sorrel and kept ahead of the horses until she could lead them safely into a corral. The gate closed, Jane looked at Beck with sparkling eyes, expecting a word of reward, but he only said: "You've got to keep goin' with horses. The country's all got to look level to you. You slowed up bustin' off that point." The rebuke hurt her ... and stimulated her ambition. He taught her to use a rifle and she brought down her first deer, a yearling buck, at long range. "I told you to hold just behind his shoulder; see where you hit," he said, indicating the wound, a hand's breadth too far back. She shot with his revolver and he told her that she would never learn to use the weapon. She bade him teach her the rudiments of roping and he decried the woman movements of arms and body. In all this he was quick to criticise, niggardly of praise; ready to teach, reluctant to grant progress. She was resentful but her resentment was no match for her determination. Now and then his rebukes whipped flushes to her cheeks and more than once she left him with tears standing in her eyes, only to tell herself aloud that she _would_ make him acknowledge her accomplishments....