-which
ought to come out."

"Miss Ruth's got a fellow," said the range boss, in seeming irrelevance.
But the young puncher sneered a malignant denial and rode away to his
camp.

There were fourteen other men employed by the Flying W. Ruth met them at
various times. Invariably they were looking for strays. They seemed--some
of them--content to look at her; others, bolder, manufactured ingenuous
pretexts to talk; but--all were gentlemen.

She arose one morning during the third week of her stay at the ranch, to
be greeted by one of those perfect days that late spring brings. It had
been dry for a week, with a hint of receding chill in the air, and the
comfort of a wrap was still felt. But on this morning the sun was showing
his power, and a balmy south breeze that entered her window was burdened
with the aroma of sage, strong and delicious. She got out of bed and
looked out of the window. It was a changed world. Summer had come
overnight. No morning in the East had ever made her feel quite like this.

Out on the front porch later in the morning, with Chavis and Pickett
standing near, she asked Masten to ride with her.

He seemed annoyed, but spoke persuasively.

"Put it off a day, won't you, Ruth? There's a good girl. I've promised to
go to Lazette with the boys this morning, and I don't want to disappoint
them." Then, seeing the disappointment in her eyes, he added: "Where did
you want to ride?"

"Why," she said, hoping that, after all, he might change his mind, "I'm
only going to the box canyon, down the river. There's such a pretty
stretch of timber there."

He smiled indulgently. "I'll try to meet you there, this afternoon about
three, if I can make it. But don't wait longer." He turned his back to
her and presently went away with Chavis and Pickett.

She stood for a little time, watching them as they mounted down near the
corral gate and rode away, and then she turned and observed Uncle Jepson
standing near a corner of the house, smoking, and watching her. She
forced a smile and went into the house.

A little after noon she saddled her pony and rode away toward the river.
She had decided that perhaps Masten might keep his appointment in spite
of the obvious insincerity that had been expressed on his face during
their talk.

It was fully five miles to the grove at the head of the box canyon, and
she made a leisurely ride of it, so that it must have been nearly two
o'clock when she dismounted and hitched t