in his thoughts during a great many of the
previous twenty-four hours. He dismounted from his pony, hitched the
animal to a rail of the corral fence, and approached Dakota, standing in
front of him and looking down at him with a smile.

Dakota apparently took little interest in his visitor, for keeping his
seat on the box upon which he had been sitting when Langford had first
caught sight of him, he continued to give his attention to the saddle.

"I'm from the Double R," offered Langford, feeling slightly less
important, conscious that somehow the familiarity that he had felt existed
between them a moment before was a singularly fleeting thing.

"I noticed that," responded Dakota, still busy with his saddle.

"How?"

"I reckon that you've forgot that your horse has got a brand on him?"

"You've got keen eyes, my friend," laughed Langford.

"Have I?" Dakota had not looked at Langford until now, and as he spoke he
raised his head and gazed fairly into the latter's eyes.

For a moment neither man moved or spoke. It seemed to Langford, as he
gazed into the steely, fathomless blue of the eyes which held his--held
them, for now as he looked it was the first time in his life that his gaze
had met a fellow being's steadily--that he could see there an
unmistakable, grim mockery. And that was all, for whatever other emotions
Dakota felt, they were invisible to Langford. He drew a deep breath,
suddenly aware that before him was a man exactly like himself in one
respect--skilled in the art of keeping his emotions to himself. Langford
had not met many such men; usually he was able to see clear through a
man--able to read him. But this man he could not read. He was puzzled and
embarrassed over the discovery. His gaze finally wavered; he looked away.

"A man don't have to have such terribly keen eyes to be able to see a
brand," observed Dakota, drawling; "especially when he's passed a whole
lot of his time looking at brands."

"That's so," agreed Langford. "I suppose you have been a cowboy a long
time."

"Longer than you've been a ranch owner."

Langford looked quickly at Dakota, for now the latter was again busy with
his saddle, but he could detect no sarcasm in his face, though plainly
there had been a subtle quality of it in his voice.

"Then you know me?" he said.

"No. I don't know you. I've put two and two together. I heard that Duncan
was selling the Double R. I've seen your daughter. And you ride up here on
a