ds reacted to his son's influence.

Twice in the early mornings Wade had surprised Jack Belllounds in the
blacksmith shop. The meetings were accidental, yet Wade ever remembered
how coincidence beckoned him thither and how circumstance magnified
strange reflections. There was no reason why Jack should not be
tinkering in the blacksmith shop early of a morning. But Wade followed
an uncanny guidance. Like his hound Fox, he never split on trails. When
opportunity afforded he went into the shop and looked it over with eyes
as keen as the nose of his dog. And in the dust of the floor he had
discovered little circles with dots in the middle, all uniform in size.
Sight of them did not shock him until they recalled vividly the little
circles with dots in the earthen floor of Wilson Moore's cabin. Little
marks made by the end of Moore's crutch! Wade grinned then like a wolf
showing his fangs. And the vitals of a wolf could no more strongly have
felt the instinct to rend.

For Wade, the cloud on his horizon spread and darkened, gathered
sinister shape of storm, harboring lightning and havoc. It was the cloud
in his mind, the foreshadowing of his soul, the prophetic sense of like
to like. Where he wandered there the blight fell!

* * * * *

Significant was the fact that Belllounds hired new men. Bludsoe had
quit. Montana Jim grew surly these days and packed a gun. Lem Billings
had threatened to leave. New and strange hands for Jack Belllounds to
direct had a tendency to release a strain and tide things over.

Every time the old rancher saw Wade he rolled his eyes and wagged his
head, as if combating superstition with an intelligent sense of justice.
Wade knew what troubled Belllounds, and it strengthened the gloomy mood
that, like a poison lichen, seemed finding root.

Every day Wade visited his friend Wilson Moore, and most of their
conversation centered round that which had become a ruling passion for
both. But the time came when Wade deviated from his gentleness of speech
and leisure of action.

"Bent, you're not like you were," said Moore, once, in surprise at the
discovery. "You're losing hope and confidence."

"No. I've only somethin' on my mind."

"What?"

"I reckon I'm not goin' to tell you now."

"You've got _hell_ on your mind!" flashed the cowboy, in grim
inspiration.

Wade ignored the insinuation and turned the conversation to another
subject.

"Wils, you're buyin' stock