im."

"When?"

She raised her narrowing eyes to his.

"_When you tell de white woman to go_."

* * * * *

Ralston had felt that the old Colonel was growing impatient with his
seeming inactivity, so he decided, the next morning, to ride to the Bar C
and tell him that he believed he had a clue. It would not be necessary to
keep Running Rabbit under close surveillance until the beef in the
meat-house was getting low. Then the deputy sheriff meant not to let him
out of his sight.

Smith had not spoken to the man whom he had come to regard as his rival
since he had ridden away from him the morning before. He had ignored
Ralston's conversation at the table and avoided him in the bunk-house.
Now, engaged in trimming his horse's fetlocks, Smith did not look up as
the other man passed, but his eyes followed him with a triumphant gleam as
he went into the stable to saddle Molly.

Ralston backed the mare to turn her in the stall, and she all but fell
down. He felt a little surprise at her clumsiness, but did not grasp its
meaning until he led her to the door, where she stepped painfully over the
low door-sill and all but fell again. He led her a step or two further,
and she went almost to her knees. The mare was lame in every leg--she
could barely stand; yet there was not a mark on her--not ever so slight a
bruise! Her slender legs were as free from swellings as when they had
carried her past Smith's gray; her feet looked to be in perfect condition;
yet, save for the fact that she could stand up, she was as crippled as if
the bones of every leg were shattered.

It is doubtful if any but steel-colored eyes can take on the look which
Ralston's contained as they met Smith's. His skin was gray as he
straightened himself and drew a hand which shook noticeably the length of
his cheek and across his mouth.

In great anger, anger which precedes some quick and desperate act, almost
every person has some gesture peculiar to himself, and this was
Ralston's.

A less guilty man than Smith might have flinched at that moment. The
half-grin on his face faded, and he waited for a torrent of accusations
and oaths. But Ralston, in a voice so low that it barely reached him, a
voice so ominous, so fraught with meaning, that the dullest could not have
misunderstood, said:

"I'll borrow your horse, Smith."

Smith, like one hypnotized, heard himself saying:

"Sure! Take him."

Ralston knew as