Helen  gazed  tenderly  at  that  bright,  bowed  head.  In
this  swift-flying,  eventful,  busy  winter,  during  which  the
management  of  the  ranch  had  devolved  wholly  upon
Helen,  the  little  sister  had  grown  away  from  her.  Bo
had  insisted  upon  her  own  free  will  and  she  had  followed
it,  to  the  amusement  of  her  uncle,  to  the  concern  of  Helen,
to  the  dismay  and  bewilderment  of  the  faithful  Mexican
housekeeper,  and  to  the  undoing  of  all  the  young  men  on
the  ranch.
Helen  had  always  been  hoping  and  waiting  for  a  favor
able  hour  in  which  she  might  find  this  wilful  sister  once
more  susceptible  to  wise  and  loving  influence.  But  while
she  hesitated  to  speak,  slow  footsteps  and  a  jingle  of  spurs
sounded  without,  and  then  came  a  timid  knock.  Bo
looked  up  brightly  and  ran  to  open  the  door.
"Oh!  It's  only — you!"  she  uttered,  in  withering  scorn,
to  the  one  who  knocked.
Helen  thought  she  could  guess  who  that  was.
"How  are  you-all?"  asked  a  drawling  voice.
"Well,  Mister  Carmichael,  if  that  interests  you — I'm
quite  ill,"  replied  Bo,  freezingly.
"111!    Aw  no,  now?"

"It's  a  fact.  If  I  don't  die  right  off  I'll  have  to  be
taken  back  to  Missouri,"  said  Bo,  casuallv.
211


THE  MAN  OF   THE  FOREST

"Are  you  goin'  to  ask  me  in?"  queried  Carmichael,
bluntly.  "It's  cold — an'  I've  got  somethin'  to  say  to — "

"To  me?  Well,  you're  not  backward,  I  declare,"  re
torted  Bo.
