of spying cowpunchers.

The thought that he might effect the passage without hindrance or loss was
stretching the improbable in Bud's mind, and he devoted much time every
day to an inspection of his supplies and accouterments.

CHAPTER XXI

JULIE INVESTIGATES

The occasion when nine men with their hands tied behind them arrived at
the Bar T ranch, accompanied by six others with Winchesters across their
saddle bows, was an extremely happy one for Juliet Bissell. This happiness
was not associated, except superficially, with the capture of the
rustlers, but had to do especially with the receipt of a certain smeared
and blackened journal from a certain tall and generously proportioned
young man.

The captives arrived at noon, but it was nearly supper-time before she had
finished reading, around, amid, among and between the lines, despite the
fact that the lines themselves left very little doubt as to the writer's
meaning.

This was not the same beautiful girl Bud Larkin had left behind him that
early morning of his escape. Since that time she had changed. The eyes
that had formerly been but the beautiful abode of allurement and
half-spoken promises, had taken on a sweet and patient seriousness. The
corners of her mouth still turned up as though she were about to smile,
but there was a firmer set to them that spoke of suppressed impulses.

She moved with a greater dignity, and for the first time became aware of
the real worth of her mother, who until now she had somehow taken for
granted. Martha's consternation and grief at her husband's sudden and
prolonged disappearance, only broken by the visit of Skidmore and his
camera, had been really pitiful, and the girl's eyes were opened to the
real value and beauty of an undying love.

Her own misery, after the receipt of the letter brought by Skidmore, she
had faced alone, and in her, as in all good and true natures, it had
worked a change. It had softened her to the grief of another, and showed
her, for the first time, that happiness is only really great when in sharp
contrast with pain.

So this long and simple love-letter from Bud, while satisfying the
cravings of the lover, stirred up again the misgivings of the doubter. And
her cogitations resulted in the admission that Bud must be either one of
two things. Either he was absolutely innocent of the imputations contained
in the letter that Skidmore brought, or he was one of the most consummate
villains at l