Double R horse. There ain't no other strangers in the country. Then, of
course, you're the new owner of the Double R."

Langford looked again at the inscrutable face of the man beside him and
felt a sudden deep respect for him. Even if he had not witnessed the
killing of Texas Blanca that day in Lazette he would have known the man
before him for what he was--a quiet, cool, self-possessed man of much
experience, who could not be trifled with.

"That's right," he admitted; "I am the new owner of the Double R. And I
have come, my friend, to thank you for what you did for my daughter."

"She told you, then?" Dakota's gaze was again on Langford, an odd light in
his eyes.

"Certainly."

"She's told you what?"

"How you rescued her from the quicksand."

Dakota's gaze was still on his visitor, quiet, intent. "She tell you
anything else?" he questioned slowly.

"Why, what else is there to tell?" There was sincere curiosity in
Langford's voice, for Sheila had always told him everything that happened
to her. It was not like her to keep anything secret from him.

"Did she tell you that she forgot to thank me for saving her?" There was a
queer smile on Dakota's lips, a peculiar, pleased glint in his eyes.

"No, she neglected to relate that," returned Langford.

"Forgot it. That's what I thought. Do you think she forgot it
intentionally?"

"It wouldn't be like her."

"Of course not. And so she's sent _you_ over to thank me! Tell her no
thanks are due. And if she inquires, tell her that the pony didn't make a
sound or a struggle when I shot him."

"As it happens, she didn't send me," smiled Langford. "There was the
excitement, of course, and I presume she forgot to thank you--possibly
will ride over herself some day to thank you personally. But she didn't
send me--I came without her knowledge."

"To thank me--for her?"

"No."

"You're visiting then. Or maybe just riding around to look at your range.
Sit down." He motioned to another box that stood near the door of the
cabin.

Once Langford became seated Dakota again busied himself with the saddle,
ignoring his visitor. Langford shifted uneasily on the box, for the seat
was not to his liking and the attitude of his host was most peculiar. He
fell silent also and kicked gravely and absently into a hummock with the
toe of his boot.

Singularly enough, a plan which had taken form in his mind since Doubler
had shot at him seemed suddenly to have many defects, thoug