ted, the
other two standing. These last two drew a second glance from Gale.
The sharp-featured, bronzed faces and piercing eyes, the tall, slender,
loosely jointed bodies, the quiet, easy, reckless air that seemed to be
a part of the men--these things would plainly have stamped them as
cowboys without the buckled sombreros, the colored scarfs, the
high-topped, high-heeled boots with great silver-roweled spurs. Gale
did not fail to note, also, that these cowboys wore guns, and this fact
was rather a shock to his idea of the modern West. It caused him to
give some credence to the rumors of fighting along the border, and he
felt a thrill.

He satisfied his hunger in a restaurant adjoining, and as he stepped
back into the saloon a man wearing a military cape jostled him.
Apologies from both were instant. Gale was moving on when the other
stopped short as if startled, and, leaning forward, exclaimed:

"Dick Gale?"

"You've got me," replied Gale, in surprise. "But I don't know you."

He could not see the stranger's face, because it was wholly shaded by a
wide-brimmed hat pulled well down.

"By Jove! It's Dick! If this isn't great! Don't you know me?"

"I've heard your voice somewhere," replied Gale. "Maybe I'll recognize
you if you come out from under that bonnet."

For answer the man, suddenly manifesting thought of himself, hurriedly
drew Gale into the restaurant, where he thrust back his hat to disclose
a handsome, sunburned face.

"George Thorne! So help me--"

"'S-s-ssh. You needn't yell," interrupted the other, as he met Gale's
outstretched hand. There was a close, hard, straining grip. "I must
not be recognized here. There are reasons. I'll explain in a minute.
Say, but it's fine to see you! Five years, Dick, five years since I
saw you run down University Field and spread-eagle the whole Wisconsin
football team."

"Don't recollect that," replied Dick, laughing. "George, I'll bet you
I'm gladder to see you than you are to see me. It seems so long. You
went into the army, didn't you?"

"I did. I'm here now with the Ninth Cavalry. But--never mind me.
What're you doing way down here? Say, I just noticed your togs. Dick,
you can't be going in for mining or ranching, not in this God-forsaken
desert?"

"On the square, George, I don't know any more why I'm here than--than
you know."

"Well, that beats me!" ejaculated Thorne, sitting back in his chair,
amaze and concern in his expression.