ill think I am not coming,"
she said. "Have a good time, Patches; you surely have earned it.
Good-by!"

He stood for a moment watching her cross the park. Then, with a quick
look around, as though he did not wish to be observed, he hurried across
the street to the Western Union office. A few moments later he made his
way, by little-frequented side streets, to the stable where he had left
his horse; and while Kitty and her friends were watching the first of
the racing cars cross the line, Patches was several miles away, riding
as though pursued by the sheriff, straight for the Cross-Triangle Ranch.

Several times that day, while she was with her eastern friends, Kitty
saw Phil near by. But she gave him no signal to join them, and the
cowboy, shy always, and hurt by Kitty's indifference, would not approach
the little party without her invitation. But that evening, while Kitty
was waiting in the hotel lobby for Mr. and Mrs. Manning, Phil, finding
her alone, went to her.

"I have been trying to speak to you all day," he said reproachfully.
"Haven't you any time for me at all, Kitty?"

"Don't be foolish, Phil," she returned; "you have seen me a dozen
times."

"I have _seen_ you, yes," he answered bitterly.

"But, Phil, you could have come to me, if you had wanted to."

"I have no desire to go where I am not wanted," he answered.

"Phil!"

"Well, you gave no sign that you wanted me."

"There was no reason why I should," she retorted. "You are not a child.
I was with my friends from the East. You could have joined us if you had
cared to. I should be very glad, indeed, to present you to Mr. and Mrs.
Manning."

"Thank you, but I don't care to be exhibited as an interesting specimen
to people who have no use for me except when I do a few fool stunts to
amuse them."

"Very well, Phil," she returned coldly. "If that is your feeling, I do
not care to present you to my friends. They are every bit as sincere and
genuine as you are; and I certainly shall not trouble them with anyone
who cannot appreciate them."

Kitty was angry, as she had good reason for being. But beneath her anger
she was sorry for the man whose bitterness, she knew, was born of his
love for her. And Phil saw only that Kitty was lost to him--saw in the
girl's eastern friends those who, he felt, had robbed him of his dream.

"I suppose," he said, after a moment's painful silence, "that I had
better go back to the range where I belong. I'm out of pla