.

The result of Bud King's investigations, so far as he was concerned, was
little different from that of his father's and negligible. But his
journey to the town of the bad name was of vast importance to others.

Winifred Waverly, upon the morning after the dance, came down late to
her breakfast, and found that Pollard had waited for her. Although he
was not in the habit of offering her this little courtesy, she thought
nothing of it at first, having enough of other matters in her brain,
perplexing her. But before the meal was over she knew why Henry Pollard
had waited for her.

It was plain to her that he realized that some real importance might be
attached to the matter of her having seen Buck Thornton last night, of
having danced and talked with him. On the ride home he had not referred
to the cattle man nor had she. Now, in great seeming carelessness but
with his eyes keen upon her, he spoke lightly of the dance, mentioned
that he had seen Thornton talking to one of the men at the schoolhouse
door and wondered why he had gone so early.

She managed to look at him innocently and to say carelessly as he had
spoken:

"I had a dance with him. He didn't say anything about leaving so soon."
She even achieved a little laugh which sounded quite natural, ending,
"He seemed rather put out that I did not receive him like an old
friend!"

"You did not accuse him of having robbed you?"

"Not in so many words," quietly. "But I was certainly not polite to him!
For a little I thought that he was going to return your money to me."

"Why?" Pollard asked sharply, and now she was sure of his readiness to
suspect her of holding back something from him.

"He said," she went on, her interest seeming chiefly for her bacon and
eggs, "that he was returning something to me I had left at the cabin at
Harte's place. I couldn't think of anything but your money."

"What was it?"

"A spur rowel. It had been loose for several days, and dropped out in
the cabin. He brought it back to me."

From this they passed on to speak of other incidents of the dance and of
other people, but the girl saw that her uncle's interest waned with the
change of topic. Then, her heart fluttering in spite of her, but her
voice steady enough, Winifred said lightly:

"I think I'll go for a little ride after breakfast. My horse needs the
exercise, and," she added laughingly, "so do I."

"Good idea," he returned, nodding his approval. But then he asked whic