ding slowly
away from the river. She did not see the queer smile on Duncan's face as
she rode, but looking back at the distance of a hundred yards, she saw
that he did not intend to follow her. He was still sitting where she had
left him, his back to her, his face turned toward the plains which spread
away toward Dakota's cabin, twenty miles down the river.

CHAPTER XI

A PARTING AND A VISIT

The problem which filled Duncan's mind as he sat on the edge of the slope
overlooking the river was a three-sided one. To reach a conclusion the
emotions of fear, hatred, and jealousy would have to be considered in the
light of their relative importance.

There was, for example, his fear of Dakota, which must be taken into
account when he meditated any action prompted by his jealousy, and his
fear of Dakota was a check on his desires, a damper which must control the
heat of his emotions. He might hate Dakota, but his fear of him would
prevent his taking any action which might expose his own life to risk. On
the other hand, jealousy urged him to accept any risk; it kept telling him
over and over that he was a fool to allow Dakota to live. But Duncan knew
better than to attempt an open clash with Dakota; each time that he had
looked into Dakota's eyes he had seen there something which told him
plainer than words of his own inferiority--that he would have no chance in
a man-to-man encounter with him. And his latest experience with Dakota had
proved that.

However, Duncan's character would not permit him to concede defeat, and
his revenge was not a thing to be considered lightly. Therefore, though he
sat for a long time on the slope, meditating over his problem, in the end
he smiled. It was not a good smile to see, for his eyes were alight with a
crafty, designing gleam, and there was a cruel curve in the lines of his
lips. When he finally mounted his pony and rode away from the slope he was
whistling.

During the next few days he did not see much of Sheila, for he avoided the
ranchhouse as much as possible. He rode out with Langford many times, and
though he covertly questioned the Double R owner concerning the affair
with Doubler he could gain no satisfying information. Langford's reticence
further aggravated the passions which rioted in his heart, and finally one
afternoon when they rode up to the ranchhouse his curiosity could be held
in check no longer, and he put the blunt question:

"What have you done about Doub