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"I left him at my station in charge of my business. He's as honest as the day. But, by the way, why didn't Jean answer the letter he sent out in care of your Happy Jack?"

"She received no letter. But what about Le-Le? Did he marry her?"

"Did Ashleigh marry Le-Le? What a question! Who said he did?"

"Jackman."

"Jean must know of all this. Will you break it to her, Joe?"

Night had come; and the autumn rains were gently enwrapping the Ranch of the Whispering Firs- in a sheet of mist when Joseph Ranger sought Jean in her little schoolroom for a private conversation.

The flickering light of a single kerosene lamp emitted a characteristic odor. A rough table supported the lamp; and on a three-legged stool sat the schoolma'am, trying to bring order out of the chaos of a score or more of papers left by the children.

"Ah!" she said, arising. "Come in. Uncle Joe. You won't find our crude beginnings very inviting, but we mustn't despise the day of small things."

"You're making a good beginning, Jean. But I have not come to talk about your school. I 'have brought you some tidings from Mr. Ashleigh."

Jean turned pale and would have fallen if her uncle had not caught her in his arms.

"Here is a note which he gave me just as I was leaving for the West."

Jean retained her composure by a supreme eflfort of the will.

"You were my dream," the letter began; "I trusted and loved you as I can never trust and love another. And the end is to be your marriage with a fellow you call Happy Jack! Oh, Jean, my bonnie Jean! Why have