fairly well."

"Your spirit is admirable, but I can't say as much for your judgment
in the matter," he returned, good-naturedly. "Still, we all go hunting
trouble in our own individual fashion; if not in one way, why, then in
another."

It was after five o'clock when Lee Bryant and Dave, once more leading
the loaded horse, took their departure and followed Sarita Creek down
to the mesa trail. When they had struck into the latter and travelled
it for half a mile, they saw a long distance ahead someone walking
toward them, also leading a horse. In a land where men saddle a mount
to ride a few hundred yards, the singular coincidence excited their
curiosity. They wondered why the fellow walked, as doubtless he was
wondering the same thing of them. But as they drew nearer they
perceived the pedestrian to be not a man but a woman; and when they
met Bryant recognized in her the girl who had sat by Charlie Menocal
in his automobile at the ford. Her gray corded riding habit was
dusty; she appeared both hot and tired; and her countenance showed a
deep dejection. The horse she led was limping.

Bryant raised his hat and addressed her.

"Your horse has gone lame, I see. Can I be of any service to you?"

"I'm afraid not; he acts as if he had strained a tendon," she replied.
"So I'm leading him home. Our ranch is on Diamond Creek."

"But you had a fall! There's blood on your glove."

"No, it's not from that," she said, with a shake of her head.

Bryant again remarked the exquisite molding of her face as he had
noted it at their first meeting, and her wide brow and clear brown
eyes and the fineness of her skin, and her warm, sensitive lips, at
this instant moving in the barest tremble imaginable. She was gazing
at him with a curious, troubled look.

"Bring Dick here," Lee bade Dave.

He swiftly untied the ropes and removed tripod, rod, and saddle. Then
he unfastened the hitch of the saddle of the horse the girl led.

"Why, what are you doing?" she exclaimed.

"Giving you a fresh horse. You can ride mine home and send him back to
me to-morrow; I live just ahead on Perro Creek at the Stevenson
place."

"I wondered if you weren't the new owner, for I had learned that the
ranch had been sold by Mr. Stevenson. Father bought his sheep. You are
Mr. Bryant, aren't you? This is most kind to lend me your horse."

"You'll find Dick gentle; and you can lead your own mount. Walking
appears to have exhausted you."

Again she shoo