The Fighting Shepherdess

Temporarily, at least, Mr. Wentz had lost his equilibrium. From washing the town's soiled linen to loaning it money was a change so sudden and radical that the rise made him dizzy; he was apt, therefore, to be a little erratic, his manner varying during a single conversation from the cold austerity of a bloodless capitalist to the free and easy democracy of the days when he had stood in the doorway of his laundry in his undershirt and "joshed" the passersby.

Mr. Wentz had a notion, fostered by his wife, that he was rather a handsome fellow. True, years of steaming had given to his complexion a look not unlike that of an evaporated apple, but this small defect was more than offset by a luxuriant brown mustache which he had trained carefully. His hair was sleek and neatly trimmed, and he used his brown eyes effectively upon occasions. His long hands with their supple fingers were markedly white, also from the steaming process. Being tall and of approximately correct proportions, his ready-made clothes fitted him excellently--as a matter of fact, Vernon Wentz would have passed for a "gent" anywhere.

Not unmindful of the presence of Mr. Pantin, of whom he secretly stood in awe, although he knew of his own knowledge that Pantin sheared his collars, Wentz swung about in his office chair and said abruptly: "Didn't expect I'd have to send for you."

Kate's troubled eyes were fixed upon him.

"I had nothing to come for."

It pleased Mr. Wentz to regard her with a smile of tolerant amusement.

"Don't know anything about finance, do you?"

"I've never had any business to attend to. I will learn, though."

Wentz smiled enigmatically. Then, brusquely: "We might as well come to the point and have it over--do you know them sheep's mortgaged?"

"I knew," hesitatingly, "that Uncle Joe had borrowed for our expenses, but I didn't know how he did it."

"That's how he did it," curtly. "And the mortgage includes the leases and the whole bloomin' outfit."

"But he only borrowed a few hundred," she ventured.

"We require ample security," importantly.

"What is it you want of me?" Kate's voice trembled slightly. The import of the interview was beginning to dawn upon her.

Wentz cleared his throat and announced impressively: "There was a meeting of the directors called yesterday and it was decided that the bank must have its money."

She cried aghast: "I haven't it, Mr. Wentz!"

"Then there's only one alternative."

"You mean ship the sheep?"

Wentz stroked his mustache.

"That's about the size of it."

"But sheep are way down," she protested. "It would take almost the two bands at present to pay off the debt and shipping expenses."