igns of life. He saw no such
signs.

"Abe's out putterin' around, an' Hagar's nappin', I reckon--or tryin' on
her new dresses," he added as an after-thought.

He was about to ride on, when a sound reached his ears, and he drew the
reins tight on Patches and sat rigid, alert, listening.

The perfect silence of the timber was unbroken. He had almost decided
that his ears had played him a trick when the sound came again, nearer
than before--the sound of voices. Quickly and accurately he determined
from which direction they came, and he faced that way, watching a narrow
path that led through the timber to a grass plot not over a hundred feet
from him, from which he was screened by some thick-growing brush at his
side.

He grinned, fully expecting to see Abe and Hagar on the path presently.
"Abe's behavin' today," he told himself as he waited. "I'll sure surprise
them, if--"

Suddenly he drew his breath sharply, his teeth came together viciously,
and his brows drew to a frown, his eyes gleaming coldly underneath. For
he saw Willard Masten coming along the path, smiling and talking, and
beside him, his arm around her waist, also smiling, but with her head
bent forward a little, was Hagar Catherson.

The color slowly left Randerson's face as he watched. He had no nice
scruples about eavesdropping at this moment--here was no time for
manners; the cold, contemptuous rage that fought within him was too deep
and gripping to permit of any thought that would not center about the two
figures on the path. He watched them, screened by the brush, with the
deadly concentration of newly aroused murder-lust. Once, as he saw them
halt at the edge of the grass plot, and he observed Masten draw Hagar
close to him and kiss her, his right hand dropped to the butt of his
pistol at his right hip, and he fingered it uncertainly. He drew the hand
away at last, though, with a bitter, twisting smile.

Five minutes later, his face still stony and expressionless, he
dismounted lightly and with infinite care and caution led Patches away
from the knoll and far back into the timber. When he was certain there
was no chance of his being seen or heard by Masten and Hagar, he mounted,
urged Patches forward and made a wide detour which brought him at length
to the path which had been followed by Masten and Hagar in reaching the
grass plot. He loped the pony along this path, and presently he came upon
them--Hagar standing directly in the path, watching