s! And I saw it again, when he sneered at Mr.
Christie. And when Pierce showed very plainly what he thought of him,
he cursed everybody in the hills, and then offered his glaringly false
explanation as to why people hate and distrust him." At the top of a
low divide, she turned her horse into a valley that was not, by any
means, the most direct route to the little cabin on Monte's Creek. A
half hour later she came out onto the plateau, upon the edge of which
Vil Holland's little tent nestled against its towering rock fragment.

For just an instant she hesitated, then, blushing, rode boldly across
the open space toward the little patch of white that showed through
the scrub timber. Pulling up before the tent door the girl glanced
about her. Everything was in its place. Her eyes rested approvingly
upon the well-scoured cooking utensils that hung in an orderly row.
Evidently the camp had not been used the night before. She drew off
her glove and, leaning over, felt the blankets that were thrown over
the ridgepole. They were still wet with the heavy dew, and the
dampened ashes showed that no fire had been built that morning. "Oh,
where is he?" whispered the girl, glancing wildly about, "Surely, he
has had time to reach here--if he's--all right." After a few moments
of silence she laughed nervously: "He's all right," she assured
herself with forced cheerfulness. "Of course, he wouldn't return here
right away. He probably had to help drive those horses back, or--or
help bury that man, or something. I wonder what he thinks of me?
Pierce will tell him his suspicions, and then--finding me mixed in
with those horses--he'll think I've 'thrown in' with Bethune, as he
would say. I must see him. I must!"

Deciding to return later in the day, Patty headed her horse for the
divide and soon found herself at the much trampled notch in the hills.
For some moments she sat staring down at the ground. She glanced
toward the cabin that showed so distinctly in the valley below. "He
certainly watches from here," she mused. "And not just occasionally
either." Suddenly, she straightened in her saddle, and her eyes
glowed: "I wonder if--if he has been watching--Monk Bethune? Watching
to see that no harm comes to--me? Oh, if I only knew--if I only knew
the real meaning of this trampled grass!" Resolutely, she gathered up
her reins. "I _will know_!" she muttered. "And I'll know before very
long, too. That is, I _hope_ I will," she qualified, as the