ntle him, an'
then----"

"And then--what?" asked the girl after a moment of silence. She received
no answer, and with a trace of impatience she repeated the question.
"What would you do then?"

"Why--then," answered the man, abstractedly, "I don't know. I was just
thinkin' maybe it ain't such a good thing after all we can't see farther
ahead."

"Did you find your friend?" Janet asked abruptly, as they walked toward
the house.

"No." In spite of herself, the dead tonelessness of the man's voice
aroused her to sudden pity. She remembered the pain and the misery in
his eyes. Perhaps after all, he loved this woman--loved her
honestly--yet, how could he love honestly another man's wife? Her lips
tightened, as she led the way into the house, and without a word, busied
herself at the stove.

Hat in hand, the Texan stood beside the table, and as his glance strayed
from the girl, it fell upon a small square of paper upon a fold of a
blanket. Mechanically he glanced at the printed lines, and at the first
word, snatched the paper from the table and held it to the light.

The girl turned at the sound: "Oh!" she cried, and stepped swiftly
forward as if to seize it from his hand. Her face was flaming red: "Dad
left it there--and then--you came--and I--I--forgot it."

The man read the last word and carefully returned the paper to the
table. "I didn't aim to read your papers," he apologized, "but I
couldn't help seein' my own name--an' hers--an' I thought I had the
right--didn't I have the right?"

"Yes," answered the girl, "of course you had the right. Only
I--we--didn't leave it there on purpose. It----"

"It don't make any difference how it come to be there," he said dully,
and as he passed his hand heavily across his brow, she saw that his
fingers fumbled for a moment on the bandage. "The news got around right
quick. It was only last night."

"Long Bill Kearney stuck one on the corral post, and he left some at the
lambing camp."

"Long Bill, eh?" The man repeated the name mechanically, with his eyes
on the square of paper, while the girl pushed the blankets back and
placed dishes upon the table.

"You must eat, now," she reminded him, as she filled his plate and
poured a cup of steaming coffee.

The Texan drew up a chair and ate in silence. When he had finished he
rolled a cigarette: "One hundred dollars," he said, as though speaking
to himself, "that's a right pickyune reward to offer for a full-grown
man. Why,