“But I’ve got to talk to somebody,” she said almost savagely.  “What did he give me to the Fords for if he didn’t think they were good enough?  Pa Joe’s as good as he is any day in the week.”

“Who is Pa Joe?” asked Percival, groping in the dark.

“He’s the darlingest old man in the world, and he owns the best cattle ranch in Wyoming.  Anybody’ll tell you so.  He’s been a real father to me, and the boys are real brothers—­at least three of them are.  They are just as good as anybody that ever lived, I don’t care what the captain says.”

There was another passionate burst of tears, and Percival had just succeeded in stemming the tide when the Scotchman bore down upon them.

“I beg your pardon, but did you know we were passing Bird Island?” he asked them.

“Yes,” said Percival, hastily getting up and piloting him safely past.  “As a matter of fact, some one was just asking for you in the smoking-room.”

“I told the captain,” sobbed Bobby, beating her hands together and apparently oblivious of interruptions, “that I’d come on this trip with him, but that it wouldn’t make a bit of difference, and it hasn’t.”

“No, of course it hasn’t,” agreed Percival, soothingly, not in the least comprehending the drift of her remarks, but pleasantly aware that he was being confided in and that something very limp and lovely was under his protection.

“Isn’t there a—­a—­Mrs. Ford on the ranch?” he asked by way of prolonging the interview.

“Not now.  Dear Aunt Kitty died four years ago.  That was when they sent me in to Cheyenne to school.  But I’m finished now, and I’m going to stay on the ranch and take care of Pa Joe and the boys.”

“Can’t say it sounds exciting.  How many children are there?”

“Children!  Why, they are all as tall as you are, except Piffles.  There’s Ted, and Dick, and Piffles, and—­Hal.  I guess you saw Hal that day at the station.”

For the first time since he had known her, her black lashes drooped consciously over her blue eyes.  They were very long and thick lashes, and as they swept her flushed cheek, Percival not only forgot what she was saying, but went so far as to forget himself.

“I saw only one thing that day at the station,” he said, with such an ardent look that it made Bobby smile through her tears.  As a rule he disliked dimples, especially the stationary kind.  But the one that now occupied, his attention was a very shy and elusive affair that kept the beholder watching very closely for fear he should miss it.

“Come,” he said, taking advantage of the momentary sunshine, “you are a bit of a sportsman, you know.  You mustn’t come off by yourself and cry like this.  Makes you feel so beastly seedy afterward, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.  But you don’t understand.  I want to do something that the captain’s perfectly determined I sha’n’t do.  He didn’t bring me on this trip just to give me a good time.  Not on your life!  He brought me to make me forget.”