so
on?"

"Putting his gun in my ribs? Resisting an officer?" the lanky Missourian
answered with a sly grin; "who said he put a gun on me--or resisted an
officer or anything? I ain't heard nothing about it!"

Two days later Sabota, with the help of "Red" Jackson, managed to get to
the Santa Fe station. He was able to travel and he did travel. Jackson
said he went to the "Border." Eagle Butte did not know or care--the
Cimarron town was through with him.

When Old Heck, Carolyn June and Ophelia returned to the Quarter Circle
KT the evening of the day following the fight, the Gold Dust maverick
whinnied lonesomely from the circular corral as the Clagstone "Six"
stopped in front of the house.

"What are we going to do with that filly?" Old Heck asked, looking at
the beautiful creature with her head above the bars of the corral gate.

"I am going to ride her!" Carolyn June said softly. "Until the Ramblin'
Kid comes back and claims her she is mine! She loves me and I can handle
her!"

"I'm afraid--" Old Heck started to protest.

"You need not be," Carolyn June interrupted, "the Gold Dust maverick and
I know each other--she understands me and I understand her--she will be
perfectly gentle with me!"

The next day Carolyn June rode the wonderful outlaw mare. It was as she
said. The filly was perfectly gentle with her. After that, every day,
the girl saddled the Gold Dust maverick and, unafraid, took long rides
alone.

* * * * *

The night the cattle were shipped Skinny had supper in Eagle Butte. He
sat alone at a small table at one side of the dining-room in the
Occidental Hotel. The cowboy was the picture of utter misery. Parker,
Charley, Chuck, Bert were gone to Chicago with steers; the Ramblin' Kid
was gone--nobody knew where; Skinny's dream about Carolyn June was
gone--she didn't love him, she just liked him; even his whisky was gone,
he had given it to the hostler at the barn; he didn't have any friends
or anything.

"What's the matter, Skinny?" Manilla Endora, the yellow-haired waitress,
asked softly, as she stepped up to the table and looked down a moment at
the dejected cowboy. There was something in her voice that made Skinny
pity himself more than ever. It made him want to cry. "What's wrong?'
Manilla repeated almost tenderly.

"Everything!" Skinny blurted out, dropping his head on his arms. "The
whole blamed works is shot to pieces!"

A little smile stole over Manilla's