T

HE owner of the Rio Brava ranch looked at the man before him with a pitying expression in his eyes. "I would do 'most anything to oblige my friend Dorn," said he, "but you don't seem to me to be in any condition to work."

The younger man smiled, in a halfcynical manner.

"I know I am not very much to look at, Mr. Wilson," he agreed, "but the doctors say I can prolong my life by living in the open air and, under the circumstances, I might as well die working as moping around. Mr. Dorn said that you have a vacancy for a driver. That would suit me very well; I have to be busy!"

There was an eagerness underneath his affected indifference that gave Mr. Wilson assurance of the man's sincerity.

"I am much in need of some one who will be faithful to my interests, Mr. Hatton," he replied; "some one who will oversee the men and keep track of the work. I have been doing this myself all these years, until I have made the ranch what it is. Now I should like to take a

rest, if only it were possible to get any one to take my place. I hardly think you are strong enough-"

Hatton smiled again.

"I don't ask for such a chance as you suggest, but if you will let me drive a team, so that I can be out of doors and cheerfully employed, I should be grateful-till the end comes along."

I'm

"But you are a college man. afraid you'd be out of place. The men are pretty rough."

"Never mind. It is all I ask."

As Hatton spoke even the half-cynical light faded from his face, leaving him gray and drawn. Wilson relented out of pity, and arranged for the man to enter upon his duties on the following day.

As they passed down the wide avenue, in front of the house, they were met by a rosy-cheeked, nut-brown young woman, under a wide-brimmed hat. She stepped along briskly, almost shocked at the sight of the weary-looking stranger.

"My daughter-Miss Dan-named for me," the father informed Hatton proudly. "She's the last child of seven-only one left-apple of my eye. Dorn's son is hoping to be her young man, but none