Ain't y'u an Injun, Jean Isbel?
Ain't y'u a hoss tracker thet rustlers cain't fool?
Ain't y'u a plumb dead shot?
Ain't y'u wuss'ern a grizzly bear in a rough-an'-tumble?
...

Now ain't y'u, shore ?" Jean bade the flattering lad a rather sober good day and rode on his way.

Manifestly a reputation somewhat difficult to live up to had preceded his entry into Grass Valley.
Jean's first sight of his future home thrilled him through.

It was a big, low, rambling log structure standing well out from a wooded knoll at the edge of the valley.

Corrals and barns and sheds lay off at the back.