her with this opportunity. She may
sail with him. Isn't it fine? He showed me her picture."

"It's the best news I've heard fo' a long time," answered Sandy soberly.

"I'm sleepy," said Molly. "Good night, Sandy, dear."

She put her lips to his tanned cheek and left him in a maze. The dying
fire leaped up and the room lightened. It died down again, but Sandy sat
there, smoking cigarette after cigarette.

CHAPTER XVIII

DEHORNED

Miranda Bailey had offered to come in for Westlake with her car, but the
train went early and he had refused. Molly drove him in the buckboard,
his grips stowed behind, and Sandy saw them go with the old light back
in his eyes. He gave Westlake a grip of the hand that made him wince.

"Bring her out to the Three Star sometime," he told him. "Mind if I tell
Sam and Mormon, Westlake? They'll sure be tickled."

"I'd like them to know. And we'll come, when we can. Maybe we'll find
you coupled by that time, Sandy. All three of you. And I hope we'll find
Molly here."

"I hope so." Sandy fancied the last sentence more than casual.

"You can rely upon my information being correct," were Westlake's last
words, spoken aside before he climbed into the buckboard and Molly
flirted the reins over the backs of the team shooting off at top speed.

Sandy's mood had changed. He was in high fettle as he watched them go.
The rider who was breaking horses for the Three Star surrendered his job
that morning to the "old man."

Molly came back a little before noon, her eyes wide with excitement.

"Mr. Keith's in town," she said. "With Donald and his secretary, Mr.
Blake. He asked me if Mr. Westlake had been here and he seemed annoyed
when I told him I had just seen him off on the train. They all came from
Casey Town in the big car. Has there been any trouble between Mr. Keith
and Mr. Westlake?"

"The South American offer is a better chance than Casey Town," answered
Sandy. "Mr. Keith may have been annoyed about that. His boy's along, you
say? Is he comin' oveh to the ranch?"

"Yes. He wanted to come with me, to drive me out in the car, but I had
the buckboard and I'd rather drive horses any day. So he'll be out a
little later to take up your invitation. Mr. Keith has some business in
Hereford. He and Mr. Blake will stay on their private car. He told me to
tell you he would be out to-morrow to see you. Oh, here's a telegram for
you."

"Thanks." Sandy tucked the envelope in his pocket. "Hop out