ight, and the soft mystery of the
darkness out of which he had come seemed to take his shadowy form again
to itself, she wondered--wondered with regret in the thought--would he,
perhaps, go thus out of her life? Would he?

When Phil turned his horse into the meadow pasture at home the big bay,
from somewhere in the darkness, trumpeted his challenge. A low laugh
came from near by, and in the light of the stars Phil saw a man standing
by the pasture fence. As he went toward the shadowy figure the voice of
Patches followed the laugh.

"I'll bet that was Stranger."

"I know it was," answered Phil. "What's the matter that you're not in
bed?"

"Oh, I was just listening to the horses out there, and thinking,"
returned Patches.

"Thinking about your job?" asked Phil quietly.

"Perhaps," admitted the other.

"Well, you have no reason to worry; you'll ride him all right," said the
cowboy.

"I wish I could be as sure," the other returned doubt fully.

And they both knew that they were using the big bay horse as a symbol.

"And I wish I was as sure of making good at my job, as I am that you
will win out with yours," returned Phil.

Patches' voice was very kind as he said reflectively, "So, you have a
job, too. I am glad for that."

"Glad?"

"Yes," the tall man placed a hand on the other's shoulder as they turned
to walk toward the house, "because, Phil, I have come to the conclusion
that this old world is a mighty empty place for the man who has nothing
to do."

"But there seems to be a lot of fellows who manage to keep fairly busy
doing nothing, just the same, don't you think?" replied Phil with a low
laugh.

"I said _man_'," retorted Patches, with emphasis.

"That's right," agreed Phil. "A man just naturally requires a man's
job."

"And," mused Patches, "when it's all said and done, I suppose there's
only one genuine, simon-pure, full-sized man's job in the world."

"And I reckon that's right, too," returned the cowboy.

CHAPTER VIII.

CONCERNING BRANDS.

A few days after Jim Reid's evening visit to the Dean two cowboys from
the Diamond-and-a-Half outfit, on their way to Cherry Creek, stopped at
the ranch for dinner.

The well-known, open-handed Baldwin hospitality led many a passing rider
thus aside from the main valley road and through the long meadow lane to
the Cross-Triangle table. Always there was good food for man and horse,
with a bed for those who came late in the day; and always th