wn eight years before; a very different Ford
Campbell, be it said, from the one who had caused a whole town to
breathe freer for his absence.

Of his wife Ford had thought less often and less uncomfortably since he
left the town wherein had occurred the untoward incident of his
marriage. He was not unaccustomed to doing foolish things when he was
drunk, and as a rule he made it a point to ignore them afterwards. His
mysterious, matrimonial accident was beginning to seem less of a real
catastrophe than before, and the anticipation of meeting Ches Mason was
rapidly taking precedence of all else in his mind.

So, with almost his normal degree of careless equanimity, he faced again
the rim of hills--nearer they were now, with a deeper tinge that was
almost purple where the shadows lined them here and there. Somewhere out
that way lay the Double Cross ranch. Forty miles, one man told him it
was; another, forty-three. At best it was far enough for the shortened
daylight of one fall day to cover the journey. Ford threw away the stub
of his after-breakfast cigarette and swung into the trail at a lope.

CHAPTER V

"I Can Spare this Particular Girl"

Ford's range-trained vision told him, while yet afar off, that the lone
horse feeding upon a side hill was saddled and bridled, with reins
dragging; the telltale, upward toss of its head when it started on to
find a sweeter morsel was evidence enough of the impeding bridle, even
before he was near enough to distinguish the saddle.

Your true range man owns blood-relationship with the original Good
Samaritan; Ford swung out of the trail and untied his rope as a matter
of course. The master of the animal might have turned him loose to feed,
but if that were the case, he had strayed farther than was ever
intended; the chances, since no human being was in sight, were all
against design and in favor of accident. At any rate Ford did not
hesitate. It is not good to let a horse run loose upon the range with a
saddle cinched upon its back, as every one knows.

Ford was riding along the sheer edge of a water-worn gully, seeking a
place where he might safely jump it--or better, a spot where the banks
sloped so that he might ride down into it and climb the bank
beyond--when he saw a head and pair of shoulders moving slowly along,
just over the brow of the hill where fed the stray. He watched, and when
the figure topped the ridge and started down the slope which faced him,
his ey