f it ain't ol' 'Brand'! Where in hell you been keepin' yourself? I
ain't seen you for a week!"

Friendship was speaking here, and the girl's heart leaped in sympathy. She
watched with a smile as the other man reached the rider's side and wrung
his hand warmly. Such effusiveness would have been thought hypocritical in
the East; humanness was always frowned upon. But what pleased the girl
most was this evidence that the rider was well liked. Additional evidence
on this point collected quickly. It came from several doors, in the shapes
of other men who had heard the first man's shout, and presently the rider
was surrounded by many friends.

The girl was deeply interested. She forgot Braman, Corrigan--forgot that
she was standing in the doorway of the bank. She was seeing humanity
stripped of conventionalities; these people were not governed by the
intimidating regard for public opinion that so effectively stifled warm
impulses among the persons she knew.

She heard another man call to him, and she found herself saying: "'Brand'!
What an odd name!" But it seemed to fit him; he was of a type that one
sees rarely--clean, big, athletic, virile, magnetic. His personality
dominated the group; upon him interest centered heavily. Nor did his
popularity appear to destroy his poise or make him self-conscious. The
girl watched closely for signs of that. Had he shown the slightest trace
of self-worship she would have lost interest in him. He appeared to be a
trifle embarrassed, and that made him doubly attractive to her. He
bantered gayly with the men, and several times his replies to some quip
convulsed the others.

And then while she dreamily watched him, she heard several voices insist
that he "show Nigger off." He demurred, and when they again insisted, he
spoke lowly to them, and she felt their concentrated gaze upon her. She
knew that he had declined to "show Nigger off" because of her presence.
"Nigger," she guessed, was his horse. She secretly hoped he would overcome
his prejudice, for she loved the big black, and was certain that any
performance he participated in would be well worth seeing. So, in order to
influence the rider she turned her back, pretending not to be interested.
But when she heard exclamations of satisfaction from the group of men she
wheeled again, to see that the rider had mounted and was sitting in the
saddle, grinning at a man who had produced a harmonica and was rubbing it
on a sleeve of his shirt, p