pon him before
to-day.

"That's all, I think," she said presently in a low voice. "You'll find
the bunk-house, at the foot of the slope beside the creek. I'll speak to
Tex as soon as he comes back."

Outside the ranch house, Buck paused for a moment or two, ostensibly to
stare admiringly at a carefully tended flower-bed, but in reality to
adjust his mind to the new and extraordinary situation. During the last
two hours he had speculated a good deal on this interview, but not even
his wildest imaginings had pictured the turn it had actually taken.

"Hired as a puncher on my own ranch by the girl whose father stole it from
me!" he murmured under his breath. "It's a scream! Darned if it wouldn't
make a good vaudeville turn."

But as he walked slowly back to where he had left his horse, Stratton's
face grew thoughtful. He was trying to analyze the motives which had
prompted him to accept such a position and found them a trifle mixed.
Undeniably the girl's unexpected personality influenced him considerably.
She did not strike him, even remotely, as the sort who would deliberately
do anything dishonest. And though Buck knew there were women who might be
able to assume that air of almost childlike innocence, he did not believe,
somehow, that in her case it was assumed. At any rate a little delay would
do no harm. By accepting the proffered job he would be able to study the
lady and the situation at his leisure. Also--and this he told himself was
even more important--he would have a chance of quietly investigating
conditions on the ranch. Pop Daggett's vague hints, his own observations,
and the intuition he had that Miss Thorne was worrying about something
much more vital than the mere lack of hands, all combined to make him feel
that things were not going right at the Shoe-Bar. Of course it might be
simply a case of rotten management. But in the back of Buck's mind there
lurked a curious notion that something deeper and more far-reaching was
going on beneath the surface, though of what nature he could not even
guess.

Leading the roan into a corral which ranged beyond the kitchen, Stratton
unsaddled him and turned him loose. Having hung the saddle and bridle in
the adjacent shed, he tucked his bundle under one arm and headed for the
bunk-house. He was within a few yards of the entrance to the long, adobe
structure when the door was suddenly flung open and a slim, slight figure,
hatless and stripped to the waist, plunged o