ll they know me?" asked Jane Withersteen, turning to a stalwart
man--no other than the dark-faced Venters, her rider of other days.

"Know you? I'll bet they will," replied Venters. "What do you say,
Bess?"

The shadow brightened in Bess's somber blue eyes, as if his words had
recalled her from a sad and memorable past.

"Black Star will know her, surely," replied Bess. "Sometimes he points
his nose toward the west and watches as if he saw the purple slopes and
smelt the sage of Utah! He has never forgotten. But Night has grown deaf
and partly blind of late. I doubt if he'd remember."

Shefford and Fay walked arm in arm in the background.

Out in the meadow two horses were grazing. They were sleek, shiny,
long-maned, long-tailed, black as coal, and, though old, still splendid
in every line.

"Do you remember them?" whispered Shefford.

"Oh, I only needed to see Black Star," murmured Fay, her voice
quivering. "I can remember being lifted on his back.... How strange! It
seems so long ago.... Look! Mother Jane is going out to them."

Jane Withersteen advanced alone through the clover, and it was with
unsteady steps. Presently she halted. What glorious and bitter memories
were expressed in her strange, poignant call!

Black Star started and swept up his noble head and looked. But Night
went on calmly grazing. Then Jane called again--the same strange call,
only louder, and this time broken. Black Star raised his head higher
and he whistled a piercing blast. He saw Jane; he knew her as he had
remembered the call; and he came pounding toward her. She met him,
encircled his neck with her arms, and buried her face in his mane.

"Shore I reckon I'd better never say any more about Wrangle runnin' the
blacks off their legs thet time," muttered Lassiter, as if to himself.

"Lassiter, you only dreamed that race," replied Venters, with a smile.

"Oh, Bern, isn't it good that Black Star remembered her--that she'll
have him--something left of her old home?" asked Bess, wistfully.

"Indeed it is good. But, Bess, Jane Withersteen will find a new spirit
and new happiness here."

Jane came toward them, leading both horses. "Dear friends, I am happy.
To-day I bury all regrets. Of the past I shall remember only--my riders
of the purple sage."

Venters smiled his gladness. "And you--Lassiter--what shall you
remember?" he queried.

The old gun-man looked at Jane and then at his clawlike hands and then
at Fay. His eyes lost th