barn, leading Pie Face and Old Blue. He left the horses
standing and at the back-yard gate overtook Carolyn June. As they
stepped inside the yard the Ramblin' Kid appeared at the kitchen door.

"There's the Ramblin' Kid now," Skinny said as they approached. "Hello,
Kid," he continued, "I see you got the filly--Excuse me, I guess you
folks ain't acquainted."

Haltingly he introduced them.

Without the flicker of an eyelid the Ramblin' Kid looked into the eyes
of Carolyn June. He had seen her coming from the corral and guessed
correctly the reason for her second visit to the enclosure. Indeed at
that moment his hand was in his pocket toying with the delicate souvenir
for which she had gone to search. Yet his face was utterly without
emotion as he lifted his hat and stood aside, acknowledging with formal
words the introduction. "It's sure a surprisin' day an' pleasant--" he
finished, emphasizing "surprisin'" and "pleasant" till Carolyn June
could have sworn there was a veiled taunt in the words he spoke.

She was equally calm. Smiling sweetly and with not a hint of a previous
meeting she said: "I think I have heard of the Ramblin' Kid." Pausing a
moment: "It's always peaceful after a storm!" she added enigmatically.
And the Ramblin' Kid, as Skinny and the girl passed around to the front
of the house, knew that Carolyn June had hurled a lance!

"A natural born heart-breaker," he said to himself as he went toward the
bunk-house, "a genuine, full-grown vampire, part intentional an' part
because it's in her--but she's a pure-bred--" He grew pensive and
silent, a look of gentleness came to his face, followed quickly by an
expression of extreme humility. "Oh, hell," he exclaimed aloud, "what's
th' use!" Entering the building the Ramblin' Kid seated himself at the
table at the end of the room. He pulled the pink satin elastic from his
pocket and gazed at it, rubbing the soft fabric tenderly with the end of
his thumb. His eyes lighted suddenly with anger and contempt. He threw
the band violently across the room into a corner. "I wasn't raised to
associate with luxuries like that!" he exclaimed with mingled bitterness
and scorn, "--a damned ign'rant cow-puncher dreamin' dreams about an
angel!" he finished with a harsh laugh. For a while he sat silent,
gazing down at the table. Then he got up, went over and lifted the
garter from where it had fallen and replaced it in his pocket. "Oh,
well," he chuckled less bitterly and whimsic