is now. Are
you ever going to get my hair loose? I'm due at the office right
this minute, I'll bet a molasses cooky." She looked at her watch, and
groaned. "I'd have to telegraph myself back to get there on time now,"
she said. "Twenty-four--that fast freight--is due in eighteen minutes
exactly. I've got to be there. Take your jackknife and cut what won't
come loose. Really, I mean it, Mr. Imsen."

"I was under the impression that my name is Grant--to friends."

"My name is 'Dennis,' if I don't beat that freight," she retorted
curtly. "Take your knife and give me a hair cut--quick! I can do it a
different way, and cover up the place."

"Oh, all right--but it's a shame to leave a nice bunch of hair like this
hanging on a bush."

"Tell me, what were you doing up here, Grant? And what are you going to
do now? We haven't much time, and we've been fooling when we should have
been discussing 'ways and means.'"

"Well, I got up early, and someone took a shot at me again. This time he
clipped my hat-brim." He took off his hat, and showed her where the brim
had a jagged tear half an inch deep. "I ducked, and made up my mind I'd
get him this time, or know the reason why. So I rode up the other way
and back behind the orchard, and struck the grade below the Point
o' Rocks, and so came up here hunting him. I kept pretty well out of
sight--we've done that before; Jack and I took sneak yesterday, and came
up here at sunrise, but we couldn't find anything. I was beginning to
think he had given it up. So I was just scouting around here when I
heard you rustling the bushes over here. I was going to shoot, but I
changed my mind, and thought I'd land on you and trust to the lessons
I got in football and the gun. And the rest," he declaimed whimsically,
"you know.

"Now, duck away down--oh, wait a minute." He gave a jerk at the knot
of his neckerchief, flipped out the folds, spread it carefully over
her head, and tied it under her chin, patting it into place and tucking
stray locks under as if he rather enjoyed doing it. "Better wear it till
you're out of the brush," he advised, "if you don't want to get hung up
somewhere again."

She stood up straight, with a long, deep sigh of relief.

"Now, pikeway," he smiled. "And don't run bareheaded through the
bushes again. You've still got time to beat that train. And--about
Saunders--don't worry. I can get to the ranch without being seen, and no
one will know I was up here, unless you