ing, resting; if Yaqui was finding water and grass.

In March, with the short desert winter over, the days began to grow
warm. The noon hours were hot, and seemed to give promise of the white
summer blaze and blasting furnace wind soon to come. No word was
received from the rangers. But this caused Belding no concern, and it
seemed to him that his women folk considered no news good news.

Among the many changes coming to pass in Forlorn River were the
installing of post-office service and the building of a mescal
drinking-house. Belding had worked hard for the post office, but he
did not like the idea of a saloon for Forlorn River. Still, that was
an inevitable evil. The Mexicans would have mescal. Belding had kept
the little border hamlet free of an establishment for distillation of
the fiery cactus drink. A good many Americans drifted into Forlorn
River--miners, cowboys, prospectors, outlaws, and others of nondescript
character; and these men, of course, made the saloon, which was also an
inn, their headquarters. Belding, with Carter and other old residents,
saw the need of a sheriff for Forlorn River.

One morning early in this spring month, while Belding was on his way
from the house to the corrals, he saw Nell running Blanco Jose down the
road at a gait that amazed him. She did not take the turn of the road
to come in by the gate. She put Jose at a four-foot wire fence, and
came clattering into the yard.

"Nell must have another tantrum," said Belding. "She's long past due."

Blanco Jose, like the other white horses, was big of frame and heavy,
and thunder rolled from under his great hoofs. Nell pulled him up, and
as he pounded and slid to a halt in a cloud of dust she swung lightly
down.

It did not take more than half an eye for Belding to see that she was
furious.

"Nell, what's come off now?" asked Belding.

"I'm not going to tell you," she replied, and started away, leading
Jose toward the corral.

Belding leisurely followed. She went into the corral, removed Jose's
bridle, and led him to the watering-trough. Belding came up, and
without saying anything began to unbuckle Jose's saddle girths. But he
ventured a look at Nell. The red had gone from her face, and he was
surprised to see her eyes brimming with tears. Most assuredly this was
not one of Nell's tantrums. While taking off Jose's saddle and hanging
it in the shed Belding pondered in his slow way. When he came back to
the corral