Jean of the Lazy A

nto her room. The peaceful familiarity of its four walls, and the cheerful patch of sunlight lying warm u

along the seat of her father's saddle, brought the finger away dusty, pulled one of the stockings from the overflowing basket and used it for a dust cloth. She

cept when her moods demanded expression of some sort; when she did write, she said exactly what she thought and felt at the time. So if you are permitted to know what she wrote at this time, you will have had a peep into Jean's hidden, inner life that none of her world save

into some scientific machine that would squeeze out his thoughts-hope it wouldn't hurt him-I'd give him ether, maybe. What I want is money-enough to buy back this place and the stock. I don't believe Uncle Carl spent as much defending dad as he claims he did-not enough to take the whole ranch anyway. If I

he things I want to do-but there's no profit in just feeling wonderful things; if I c

ut and do the little you might do, because somebody must have you around to lean on and tell their troubles to.... I don't blame Aunt Ella so much-but thank goodness, I can do without a shoulder to weep on, anyway. What's life for if you've got to s

e the little spring, where a faint, little-used trail led to the benchland above. By following a rock ledge to where it was broken, and climbing through the crevice to where the trail marked faintly th

away to the north, and at certain times see the smoke of passing trains through the valley off there. One could look south to the distant river bluffs, and east and west to the mountains. Jean often climbed the bluff just for the wide ou

there, and sat down and stared at the soft purple of the hills and the soft green of the nearer slopes, and at the peaceful blue of the sky arched over it all. Her eyes cleared of their troubled l

and riding out to look after the stock. She was seeing herself riding with him,-or else cooking the things

e sudden grasp of misfortune; and a quick sympathy with the bird, which was like herself and dad, caught unawares and held helpless. But she did not move, and the hawk circled and came back on his way to the n

le brown bird fluttered terrifiedly and gave a piteous, small chirp when her hand

gave its body to make sure that she had hit it where she meant to hit it. Lite had taught her to shoot like that,-straight and quick. Lite was a man who trimmed life down to the essentials, and he had long ago impressed it upon her that if s

added comfortingly: "There-you needn't worry one minute over that. I'm almost sure there's a bottle of peroxide down at the house, that isn't spoiled. We'll go and put some on it right away; and then we'll go bug-

, partially concealed the buildings and the house yard from view until one was well down into the coulee. So it was not until she was at the spring, looking at the mo

the corner was the camera perched high upon its tripod and staring at her with its one round eye; and the humorous-eyed Pete Lowry turning a crank at the side and c

d Pete Lowry, and abruptly stoppe

re to one side, will you?" The fat directo

. The two women glanced at her wide-eyed and moved away with mutual embracings. Jean lifted her hands and looked at the soft little crest and b

ally, and watched curiously the pulling of

ete Lowry told her dryly, but with th

about something. But what she did was to cross her feet and murmur a sympathetic sentence to the little brown bird. Inwardly she resented deeply this bold trespass of Robert Grant Burns; but she meant to guard ag

ns, in the tone that would have shriveled the soul of

and crossed her feet the other way. She believed that she knew why Robert Grant Burns was growing so red in the face and stepping about so uneasily, and why the women were look

ugh she seemed unconscious of his presence, she heard every word that Robert Grant Burns was muttering to himself. Some of the words were plain, man-sized swearing,

; sweet-tempered," she observed to the world in

t," Pete Lowry said in an

to ask questions about what he was doing with that queer-looking camera, and how he could inject motion into photography. While she watched, he drew out a narrow, gray strip of film and made mysterious markings upon it with the pencil, wh

d gesture with both hands,-a gesture which

We've got work to do. We ain't here on any pleasure excursion, and you'll be

ee why you aren't apologizing for being here, instead of ordering me about as if I worked for you. This bench-is my bench. This ranch-is where I have lived nearly all my life. I hate to seem vain, Mr. Burns, but at the same time I think it is perfectly lovely of me to explain that I have a right here; and I consider myself an a

ve a chance, and would explain just why you are here and what you want to do,

abruptly. Lee Milligan, wandering up from the stables, stopped and stared. No one, within the knowledge of those present, had ever spoken so to Robert Grant Burns; no o

er from the bench and hurl her by sheer brute force out of hi

on?" he asked, in the tone of one who gives a la

uld not be bullied into losing control of herself. These two women should not have the satisfaction of calling her a crude, ignorant, country girl; and Robert Grant Burns should not have the triumph of browbeating her into yielding one inch of ground. She forced hers

strayed to Pete Lowry. He was looking upward with that measuring glance which belongs to his profession, estimating the length of time the light would be suitable for the scene he had focussed. She followed his glance to where the shadow of th

e how it is; Mr. Burns hasn't got hold of himself yet. If he comes to his sens

red-sweatered one pr

before this bench is in th

ttle longer." Pete glance

s head tilted toward Robert Grant Burns as imperso

he made no reply whatever. So Jean turned her attention to the man whose bulk shaded her from t

and be sensible about it?" she asked him. "You can't bully me into being afraid of you,

out of the scene?" By a tremendous effort Robert Gra

ant to know by what right you come here with your pict

ern Film Company looked at her long. With h

you that we ain't trespassing here or anywhere else. And if you'd kindly,"-and Mr. Burns em

nd studied her and measured her with his mind while she read. He saw the pulling together of her eyebrows, and the pinching of her under-lip between her teeth. He saw how

ould have said that she was the type that would photograph well, and that she ha

upon it or in any manner pertaining to it, for the purpose of making motion pictures. It was plainly set forth that Robert G. Burns should be held responsible for any destruction of or damage to the property, and that h

ns was justified in ordering her off that bench; she had no right there, where he was making his pictures. She forced back the bitterness that filled her because of her own helplessness, and folde

our presence in the first place." She wrapped the bird carefully in her handkerchief so that only its beak and its br

and ridden away, he said never a word. Pete Lowry leaned an elbow upon the camera and watched her also, until

e assistant camera man, and without any ta

get the warning, but you've got your doubts about letting her take the risk of going. And, Gay, when you read the letter, try and show a little emotion in your face. You saw how that girl looked-see if you c