A story of modern Montana, giving a wholly different phase of life among the ranches--in the lonesome land.
and removed the newspaper from the portrait. "That breed girl of mine ain't got the least idea of how to straighten up a room," she observed complainingly. "I guess she thinks this picture was made to hang things on. I'll have to round her up again and tell her a few things. This is my first husband. He was in politics and got beat, and so he killed himself. He couldn't stand to have folks give him the laugh." She spoke with pride. "He was a real handsome man, don't you think? You mighta took off the paper; it didn't belong there, and he does brighten up the room. A good picture is real company, seems to me. When my old man gets on the rampage till I can't stand it no longer, I come in here and set, and look at Walt. 'T ain't every man that's got nerve to kill himself--with a shotgun. It was turrible! He took and tied a string to the trigger--"
The landlady stopped short and stared at her. "What? Oh, I won't go into details--it was awful messy, and that's a fact. I didn't git over