figures upon the tags. She shook her head slowly and made repeated
sounds of disapproval.

"Tse! Tse! Tse! Why, your pa's crazy! Plumb crazy!"

Although the mother's principal emotion for the moment was aroused
by the price marks on the price tags, Allegheny paid little
attention to them and began vainly fitting ring after ring to her
fingers. All were too small, however; most of them refused to pass
even the first joint, and Gray realized now what Gus Briskow had
meant when he wrote for rings "of large sises." Eventually the
girl found one that slipped into place, and this she regarded with
complacent admiration.

"This one'll do for me," she declared. "And it's a whopper!"

Gray took her hand in his; as yet it had not been greatly distorted by
manual labor, but the nails were dull and cracked and ragged and they
were inlaid in deep mourning. "I don't believe you'll like that
mounting," he said, gently. "It's what we call a man's ring. This is
the kind women usually wear." He held up a thin platinum band of
delicate workmanship which Allegheny examined with frank disdain.

[Image: "THIS ONE'LL DO FOR ME," SHE DECLARED. "AND IT'S A WHOPPER!"]

"Pshaw! I'd bust that the first time I hoed a row of 'taters," she
declared. "I got to have things stout, for me."

"But," Gray protested, in even a milder voice, "you probably
wouldn't want to wear expensive jewelry in the garden."