“Mother, bless your heart, you do understand. I feel suddenly freed…. But, oh, I forgot Mr. Setter,” exclaimed Ina, impulsively.

“What do you mean, daughter?”

“I didn’t mean to let that slip. But maybe it’s just as well. Mother, of late Setter has been—well, offensive, where McAdam was only silly. McAdam only annoyed me, but Setter has worried me, even frightened me.”

“For the land’s sake! What’s he done?” exclaimed her mother, bewildered.

“It’s enough to say, Mother, that he has neither scruples nor decency,” declared Ina, with heat. “The last few weeks before we moved over here he waylaid me in the parlor, out under the pines, on the road when I went to meet Dall, in fact, everywhere I was alone.”

“Waylaid you! What’s that word? … You don’t mean courtin’ you? Why, he’s old enough to be your father!”

“Courting is a mild way to put it, Mother,” continued Ina, gravely. “Courting implies marriage. And Mr. Less Setter has not done me the honor to hint of marriage. But he makes brazen love to me. I have to fight, even run to get away from him. There, it’s out!”

Mrs. Blaine passed from astonishment to anger. A slow dull red colored her lined face and her usually mild eyes snapped.

“You never told your father,” she asserted.

“No. Once or twice I’ve said sharp things to Mr. Setter and got a terrible scolding from dad. Then of late dad has got so thick with him that I was actually afraid. He’d get terribly angry now and he wouldn’t believe me. Then I’ve had suspicions that Setter would cheat dad sooner or later. So I just relied on my wits to avoid this gay Lothario of a cattleman.”

“Ina, I’m glad you told me,” said her mother. “I hope Hart Blaine learns a lesson. If he can’t protect his own daughter an’ lets her brothers go gallivantin’ to the city—well, it’s a great pity. If I was in your place I’d make up to some strappin’ big cowboy who would protect me from a man like Less Setter.”

“Mother!” cried Ina, incredulously.

“That’s plain talk, Ina, an’ maybe common, as young McAdam’s mother said I was. But I don’t care what it is. Wealth isn’t everythin’. I know good from bad. An’ pretty soon I’ll give your father a piece of my mind.”

Dall came noisily into sight then, dragging a puppy and a rabbit. Whereupon Mrs. Blaine left Ina and went to her tent.

“Ina, you look like the dickens,” said Dall. “Come play with us.”

“Surely, if you and your menagerie will stick close to my lookout station here,” replied Ina.

“Lookout station! You mean a forest–fire lookout?”

“Forest fire, thunder and lightning, earthquake, any kind of catastrophe,” said Ina, pointing to the juniper tree, the white tarpaulin spread over their bed, the comfortable wide hammock with its cushions, and the box table littered with books.

“I savvy,” returned Dall, seriously. “You want to see when to run from dad and Mr. Klamath Falls and Mr. Blondy Pop–eyes.”