At last, far ahead over a barren mesquite-dotted stretch of dusty ground, he espied a patch of green and a little flat, red ranch-house.

He headed his horse for it and turned a face he tried to make cheerful for Jennie's sake.

She seemed both happy and sorry.
When near at hand he saw that the rancher was a thrifty farmer.

And thrift spoke for honesty.

There were fields of alfalfa, fruit-trees, corrals, windmill pumps, irrigation-ditches, all surrounding a neat little adobe house.