head and wonder how long they would last. They were breeding and training polo ponies; some of them, like the Potters, were experimenting with sheep. They had all the cow-man's dislike of sheep, and it went against the grain, but what else could they do? It required anything from twenty five to fifty acres of land to graze a cow, and in the end they might have to give her away.
But the point is that their coming left Kay free to do what she liked. She would make her dutiful bows, shake hands and wander off; she tried, to do her justice, to make friends with Nellie Mallory, who was sixteen then, but Nellie was aloof and more than a little jealous. She would sit on the porch of the foreman's house and watch Kay interminably, but when Kay sauntered over to speak to her she had little to say.
"I never get tired of looking at the mountains."
"You would if you hadn't anything else."
"Don't you ride?"
"Not if I can help it. Give me an auto any time."
Nellie always said "auto." She considered it more elegant than car.
And Kay, rather daunted, would wander off, to watch horses being shod or vaccinated, to look at the calves, to see farm wagons being repaired. The men, apparently absorbed in their work, greeted her civilly and went on with their business, but it was quickly obvious to them where her interest lay. If they smiled among themselves it was when Tom was far enough away for safety. Not one of them saw any element of possible tragedy. Here was another girl who had fallen for Tom, and that was all there was to it.
The end of the first week, however, saw a change in the relationship with Kay and McNair. So far Kay had ridden mainly in the evenings with Herbert, and Herbert was no horseman.
"I don't want a trick horse," he had announced with great firmness, when they were selecting one for him. "I want to enjoy the scenery. How about that bay?"
"He'll show you more scenery than you ever knew there
