r, Barb seemed to
feel more at his ease. He told stories of his old railroad days and
laughed when Kate and Belle and Laramie laughed. Later, his daughter
and his new son-in-law walked up street with him. They went with him
on his errands and then to the barn. McAlpin, personally, hitched up
the ponies, both in compliment to a new customer and to hear every word
that passed in the talk.

"Damme," he muttered to the hostler in the harness room, "y' can't get
around old Barb. Look at him. What do I mean? Don't he fight Laramie
five years 'n' get licked? Now he turns him into his son-in-law and
gets the Falling Wall range anyway--can y' beat it? Coming right
along, sir!" he shouted, as Barb in the gangway bellowed for more
speed. And with a flutter of activity, real and feigned, McAlpin and
his helper fastened the traces.

When ready, the wiry team and the long narrow buckboard looked small
for Barb, who cautiously clambered into the seat and gingerly
distributed his bulk upon it. Laramie had taken the reins from
McAlpin; he passed them to Barb who, as he squared himself so as not to
fall off his slender perch, was huskily demanding when Laramie and Kate
would be out. At the last minute, Kate insisted on and was given, a
good-by kiss. She and Jim promised to go out next day. Barb spoke to
the horses. They jumped half-way out of the barn. Kate, with Laramie
following, hurried forward to see her father drive away.

The broad back, topped by the powerful shoulders and neck, and the big
hat bobbing up and down with the spring of the buckboard, the little
team plunging at their bits, and her father heedless of their
antics--all this was a familiar sight, but never had it been so
pleasing. The setting sun touched with gold the thin cloud of dust
that rose from the wheels. It was the close of a beautiful day and it
had been next to the happiest in her life, Kate thought, while she
stood, watching and thinking. The ponies reaching a turn in the road
dashed ahead and her father disappeared.

CHAPTER XL

BRADLEY RIDES HARD

The evening was spent at Belle's. Lefever came in late with
congratulations. He told them about his trip and the wonders.

"I'll bet you're glad to get back to Sleepy Cat," objected Belle.

Lefever pointed a serious, almost accusing finger at her: "Thank you
for saying it, Belle; and that's never hinting the Panhandle's not a
good country--not a bit of it. But, just the same,