of the two men more strongly contrasted
than in this. When Smith flamed with jealousy he wanted to hurt Dora and
Ralston alike, and when he had the advantage he shoved the hot iron home.
Ralston could be just, generous even, and, though he believed she had
unreservedly given her preference to Smith, he still yearned to shield
her, to spare her pain and humiliation.

Susie finally disappeared, and when she did not come in sight again they
knew she had reached the rendezvous. Dismounting, they tied their horses
in a deep draw, and crawled to the top, where they could watch for her
signal.

"She'll give him plenty of time," said Ralston.

He had barely finished speaking when they saw Susie at the top of the
canyon wall waving her hat.

"Something's gone wrong," said Ralston quickly.

With rifles ready for action, the three of them ran toward Susie.

Ralston and Bear Chief reached her together. Without a word she pointed
into the empty canyon, where a dying camp-fire told the story. Smith had
been gone for hours.

XV

WHERE A MAN GETS A THIRST

While the four stood staring blankly at the trampled earth and the thin
thread of smoke rising from a smouldering stick on a bed of ashes, Smith,
miles away, was watching the skyline in the direction from which he had
come, and gulping coffee from a tin can. He had slept--the print of his
body was still in the sand--but his sleep had been broken and brief. He
had ridden fast and all night long, but he was not yet far enough away to
feel secure. There was always a danger, too, that the horses would break
for their home range, although he kept the mare who led the band on the
picket rope when they were not travelling. His own horse, always saddled,
was picketed close.

"I'll never make a turn like this alone again," he muttered
discontentedly. "It's too much like work to suit me, and I ain't in shape
to make a hard ride. I've got soft layin' around the ranch." He stretched
his stiff muscles and made a wry face. Then he smiled. "I'd like to see
that brat's face when she comes with my grub this mornin'." He looked off
again to the skyline.

"I ketched her eyein' me once or twice in a way that didn't look good to
me; and I had that notorious strong feelin' take holt of me that she
wasn't on the square. I'd better be sure nor sorry;--that's no josh. I
takes no chances, me--Smith; I tips my hand to no petticoat."

He noted with relief that the wind was rising. He was