odd jobs and appearing to be busy nearly all the time--each
succeeding night found him stealthily mounting his horse to ride to the
Bar D, there to watch Dale's movements.

He had not been at the Bar D since the night before the day on which he
had left with Sanderson to go to Las Vegas, but on the second night
following his return--soon after dark--he went to the stable, threw
saddle and bridle on his horse, and vanished into the shadows of the
basin.

Later, moving carefully, he appeared at the edge of a tree clump near
the Bar D corral. He saw a light in one of the windows of the
house--Dale's office--and he left his horse in the shadows and stole
forward. There were two men in the office with Dale. Owen saw them
and heard their voices as he crept to a point under the window in the
dense blackness of the night.

The men Dale had sent to Tucson had not required the full two weeks for
the trip; they had made it in ten days, and their faces, as they sat
before Dale in the office, showed the effects of their haste. Yet they
grinned at Dale as they talked, glowing with pride over their
achievement, but the word they brought to Dale did not please him, and
he sat glaring at them until they finished.

"Gary Miller ain't been heard of for a month, eh?" he said. "You say
you heard he started this way? Then where in hell is he?"

Neither of the men could answer that question and Dale dismissed them.
Then he walked to a door, opened it, and called to someone in another
room. Dave Silverthorn entered the office, and for more than an hour
the two talked, their conversation being punctuated with futile queries
and profanity.

At ten o'clock the next morning Dale appeared at the Double A
ranchhouse. Apparently he was willing to forgive and forget, for he
grinned at Owen, who was watching him from the door of the bunkhouse,
and he politely doffed his hat to Mary Bransford, who met him at the
door of the ranchhouse.

"Well, Miss Mary," he said, "how does it feel to have a brother again?"

"It's rather satisfying, Dale," smiled the girl. "Won't you get off
your horse?"

The girl's lips were stiff with dread anticipation and dislike. Dale's
manner did not mislead her; his forced geniality, his gruff heartiness,
his huge smile, were all insincere, masking evil. He seemed to her
like a big, tawny, grinning beast, and her heart thumped with
trepidation as she looked at him.

"How's Nyland?" he asked, smiling hug