nt to let them know at all, for he
could come here, sometimes, to see them, when Ruth had gone. And so he
was much pleased when, entering the house, he did not see them. But he
looked for them, to be certain, going into all the rooms. And finally
from a kitchen window he saw them out in the cottonwood back of the
house, walking arm in arm, away, deeper into the wood. He turned with a
gentle smile, and went upstairs to his room.

* * * * *

Shortly after Abe Catherson's departure from the cabin, Ruth came to the
door and looked out. Her face was whiter than it had been when she had
reached the cabin, she was more composed, and her eyes were alight with
mingled resignation and thankfulness. For Hagar had yielded her secret,
and Ruth had realized how near she had come to linking her life with that
of the despicable creature who had preyed on her friend. The son of this
great waste of world loomed big in her thoughts as she stood in the
doorway; she saw now that those outward graces which had charmed her, in
Masten, had been made to seem mockeries in contrast to the inward
cleanness and manliness of the man that she had condemned for merely
defending himself when attacked.

She went back into the cabin and sat beside Hagar, a queer sensation of
joy possessing her, despite her pity for Hagar and her disgust for
Masten, for she knew in this instant that she would never allow Randerson
to quit the Flying W. Her joy was infectious; it brought a fugitive smile
to the face of the nester's daughter, and as Ruth led her out upon the
porch, her arms around her, Hagar looked at her worshipfully.

Out at the edge of the porch, Hagar shot a dreading glance around. She
started, and her eyes filled with anxiety as her gaze rested on the
corral. She seized Ruth's arm tightly.

"Dad's gone!" she said gulpingly.

"Well, perhaps it is all for the best, Hagar," consoled Ruth. "He will
ride for a while, and he will come back to forgive you."

But the girl's eyes grew wide with fear. "Oh, I'm afraid he'll do
somethin' terrible!" she faltered. "Before you came, he asked me if--if
it had been Randerson. I told him no, but he didn't seem satisfied, an'
when I wouldn't tell him who it was, he went out, cursin' Rex. I'm
afraid, Ruth--I'm afraid!" She glanced wildly around, and her gaze rested
on the piece of paper that Catherson had left on the edge of the porch.
In an instant she had pounced upon i