ing house gown, cut low at the throat and giving
her arms freedom to the elbow. She wore pretty stockings and pretty
slippers on her feet. Instead of a quirt she carried a fan in her hand
and there was a handkerchief tucked into her belt.

The chrysalis of the cowgirl had burst and this butterfly had emerged.
Of late it was not often that Frances had "dolled up," as the old
Captain called it. Now he said, enthusiastically:

"My! you do look sweet! What's all the dolling up for? Me? The Chinks?
Or maybe that boy upstairs, eh?"

"For myself," said Frances, quietly. "Pratt is too sick to notice much
what I wear, I guess. But I find that I have been paying too little
attention to dress."

"Huh!" snorted the old ranchman.

"It is a woman's duty to make herself as beautiful and attractive as
possible," said Frances, with a bright smile. "You know, I read that in
a woman's paper."

"You surely did!" agreed the ranchman, and then turned to meet Silent
Sam as that individual drew up to the step.

"What's the good word, Sam?" inquired the Captain.

"Got that Ratty. He's in the jail at Jackleg. Like you said, I never
told nobody but the sheriff what 'twas for you wanted him."

"That's right," said the Captain, gravely. "If the boys understood he
was mixed up with this kidnapping business, I don't know what they would
do."

"Right, Captain," said the foreman. "So the sheriff took him for being
all lit up. Ratty won't sleep it off before to-morrow."

"And if they could catch that Pete What's-his-name by then----"

"Ain't found hide nor hair of him," answered Silent Sam.

"Where do you reckon he went to, Sam?"

"He didn't go with his horse, Captain. He fooled us."

"What?"

"That's so. Horse was found yisterday evenin' down beyand
Peckham's--scurcely breathed. He'd run fur, but he didn't have nobody on
his back."

"I see!" ejaculated the ranchman, smiting one doubled fist upon the
other palm. "That Pete has fooled us from the start."

"Sure did," admitted Sam.

"He never mounted his horse at all?" cried Frances, deeply interested.

"That's it," said her father. "We ought to have known that at the time.
No horse could have gone smashing through the brush the way that one did
without knocking his rider's head off."

"Sure," agreed Sam again.

"And he was right there near the place he held Pratt and me captive all
the time we were making a stretcher for poor Pratt," said Frances.

"Or hiking up stream," sai