I don't
seem to be able to get out anything except thanks these days. I ought
to send my cousin a letter thanking him for giving me a chance to owe so
much kindness to so many people."

"Your cousin?" repeated the uncomprehending officer.

"This desperado, Bannister, is my cousin," answered the sheepman
gravely.

"But if he was your cousin, why should he want--to kill you?"

"That's a long story, Lieutenant. Will y'u hear it now?"

"If you feel strong enough to tell it."

"Oh, I'm strong enough." He glanced at Helen. "Perhaps we had better not
tire Miss Messiter with it. If y'u'll come to my room--"

"I should like, above all things, to hear it again," interrupted that
young woman promptly.

For the man she loved had just come back to her from the brink of the
grave and she was still reluctant to let him out of her sight.

So Ned Bannister told his story once more, and out of the alcove came
the happy foreman and Nora to listen to the tale. While he told it his
sweetheart's contented eyes were on him. The excitement of the night
burnt pleasantly in her veins, for out of the nettle danger she had
plucked safety for her sheepman.

CHAPTER 20. TWO CASES OF DISCIPLINE

The Fourth of July celebration at Gimlet Butte had been a thing of the
past for four days and the Lazy D had fallen back into the routine of
ranch life. The riders were discussing supper and the continued absence
of Reddy when that young man drew back the flap and joined them.

He stood near the doorway and grinned with embarrassed guilt at the
assembled company.

"I reckon I got too much Fourth of July at Gimlet Butte, boys. That's
how come I to be onpunctual getting back."

There was a long silence, during which those at the table looked at him
with an expressionless gravity that did not seem to veil an unduly warm
welcome.

"Hello, Mac! Hello, boys! I just got back," he further contributed.

Without comment the Lazy D resumed supper. Apparently it had not
missed Reddy or noticed his return. Casual conversation was picked up
cheerfully. The return of the prodigal was quite ignored.

"Then that blamed cow gits its back up and makes a bee-line for Rogers.
The old man hikes for his pony and--"

"Seems good to git my legs under the old table again," interrupted Reddy
with cheerful unease.

"--loses by about half a second," continued Missou. "If Doc hadn't roped
its hind laig--"

"Have some cigars, boys. I brought a box back with me