girl.

Dismounting, he led his horse around to the rear and put him in a
corral near the barn. He surmised that it was about ten o'clock. As he
walked toward the front of the house, again he heard the sputtering of
a small motor car; then he saw the path of light from its headlights
go streaking across the desert in the direction of the town to
southward. The front door closed, and all was still.

Rathburn hesitated for several moments, then he stamped up the porch
steps and knocked at the door. It was opened by a girl. She held a
lighted lamp in her hand. When she saw Rathburn standing, hat in
hand, before her, her dark eyes widened, and she nearly dropped the
lamp. He stepped forward quickly and took it from her.

"Roger!" she exclaimed breathlessly. "You--here?"

"I'm here, Laura," he said quietly. "I'm home on a--a visit."

"I heard you were back," she faltered. "Mr. Doane--that is--a
gentleman from town told me he had heard you were back. But----"

She scanned his face closely and peered beyond him into the shadows
with visible concern.

"Roger, come in quickly," she invited, stepping back from the door.

With a faint smile he entered and closed the door after him. He put
the lamp down on the table in what was evidently the sitting room of
the small house. He looked about him with the air of one who sees
familiar surroundings, but is embarrassed by them.

"Some one been tellin' you the details of my arrival?" he asked with
an effort to appear casual.

"I heard you were in some trouble, Roger." The girl continued to stare
at him with a queer expression in her fine eyes--part sorrow, part
concern, part gladness.

"I'm not a stranger to trouble these days, Laura," he said soberly.

There was a sob in the girl's throat, but she recovered herself at
once.

"Have you eaten?" she asked quickly.

"Up at Joe Price's place," he replied. "All fed and chipper."

There was not much confidence in his tone or manner. As the girl
lowered her gaze, he looked at her hungrily; his eyes feasted on the
coils of dark hair, her long, black lashes, the curve of her cheek
and her delicate color, the full, ruby lips, and the small, quivering
chin. She was in the throes of a strong emotion.

"I'm sorry, Laura, if--you didn't want me to come," he said
unsteadily.

"Oh, Roger! Of course we want you to come. It's been so long since we
saw you. And you've--you've gone through so much."

She raised her eyes, and the express