the ranch, and that I remained because you were lost in the
mountains."

"Good. Now, old man, I'll tell you how you can repay me in full for
anything you may think I've done for you."

"Go on!"

"Are you ready to assume the responsibility for my acts? I mean in the
matter of the land and cattle? The rest is still my affair."

"Most certainly."

"Well, then. I've very special reasons for needing peace with
Huntington."

Thursby looked at him curiously. This from Philip Haig!

"And you want me to--"

"Don't misunderstand me. I've gone up there before, and I'm going
again to-morrow. But I want to give Huntington a chance. So if you'll
go to his house to-morrow morning, and tell him that I've finished,
that the ranch is not mine, and--"

"But the ranch is yours--or half yours."

"Never mind about that now. We'll talk it over later. Just tell
Huntington that the ranch is not mine, and never has been, and--whatever
else you like. Then say to him that if he still wants to fight me I'll
meet him anywhere, and we'll settle it. In any event, you will tell
him, I'm coming to his place to-morrow afternoon, and I'll have no
gun."

"I see."

"And you'll do it?"

"Of course. With all my heart."

And he made a thorough job of it. He told them--Huntington, Claire and
Marion--that he had been in great trouble. What that trouble was
concerned nobody but himself, but it was enough to send him around the
world, reckless of everything but the immediate object of his pursuit.
Philip Haig, an old friend, had volunteered to look after his ranch
for him, and to provide him with money when he needed it. So, if Haig
had seemed too aggressive and selfish in his methods, all that he had
done had been done in a spirit of--he might say a spirit that was
almost quixotic. And having done all this, increasing Thursby's
holdings of cattle four times, Haig refused to accept anything for his
time and labor, and insisted that their account was closed.

Marion had known nothing of all this, save for the hints she had
received from Smythe, following the conversation overheard by him.
Philip had told her nothing of it in recounting his adventures. With
glistening eyes she looked from Claire to Huntington, where they sat
open-mouthed, and was thrilled with pride and triumph. Claire at
length turned, and looked at her, and smiled. As for Huntington, he
was simply (as he explained afterwards, seeking to justify his ready
acquiescence) flabber