m Kremmling on the second day. When night
came Belllounds reluctantly gave up looking for him.

Jack's non-appearance suited Columbine, and she would have been glad to
be let alone until October first, which date now seemed appallingly
close. On the afternoon of Jack's third day of absence from the ranch
Columbine rode out for some needed exercise. Pronto not being available,
she rode another mustang and one that kept her busy. On the way back to
the ranch she avoided the customary trail which led by the cabins of
Wade and the cowboys. Columbine had not seen one of her friends since
the unfortunate visit to the Andrews ranch. She particularly shrank from
meeting Wade, which feeling was in strange contrast to her
former impulses.

As she rode around the house she encountered Wilson Moore seated in a
light wagon. Her mustang reared, almost unseating her. But she handled
him roughly, being suddenly surprised and angry at this unexpected
meeting with the cowboy.

"Howdy, Columbine!" greeted Wilson, as she brought the mustang to his
feet. "You're sure learning to handle a horse--since I left this here
ranch. Wonder who's teaching you! I never could get you to rake even
a bronc!"

The cowboy had drawled out his admiring speech, half amused and half
satiric.

"I'm--mad!" declared Columbine. "That's why."

"What're you mad at?" queried Wilson.

She did not reply, but kept on gazing steadily at him. Moore still
looked pale and drawn, but he had improved since last she saw him.

"Aren't you going to speak to a fellow?" he went on.

"How are you, Wils?" she asked.

"Pretty good for a club-footed has-been cow puncher."

"I wish you wouldn't call yourself such names," rejoined Columbine,
peevishly. "You're not a club-foot. I hate that word!"

"Me, too. Well, joking aside, I'm better. My foot is fine. Now, if I
don't hurt it again I'll sure never be a club-foot."

"You must be careful," she said, earnestly.

"Sure. But it's hard for me to be idle. Think of me lying still all day
with nothing to do but read! That's what knocked me out. I wouldn't have
minded the pain if I could have gotten about.... Columbine, I've
moved in!"

"What! Moved in?" she queried, blankly.

"Sure. I'm in my cabin on the hill. It's plumb great. Tom Andrews and
Bert and your hunter Wade fixed up the cabin for me. That Wade is sure a
good fellow. And say! what he can do with his hands! He's been kind to
me. Took an interest in me, and betwe