but instantly there was silence, save for the echo of the sound rolling
down the valley. Then a voice answered, and Grant gave a word or two of
directions. In a minute or two several horsemen loomed up through the
vague light.

"Here we are," said Zen, as she distinguished her father. "Gone lame on
the off foot and held up for repairs."

Y.D. swung down from his saddle. "Are you all right, Zen?" he cried, as
he advanced with outstretched arms. There was an eagerness and a relief
in his voice which would have surprised many who knew Y.D. only as a
shrewd cattleman.

Zen accepted and returned his embrace, with a word of assurance that she
was really nothing the worse. Then she introduced her companion.

"This is Mr. Dennison Grant, foreman of the Landson ranch, Dad."

Grant extended his hand, but Y.D. hesitated. The truce occasioned by the
fire did not by any means imply permanent peace. Far from it, with the
valley in ruins--

Y.D. was stiffening, but his daughter averted what would in another
moment have been an embarrassing situation with a quick remark.

"This is no time, even for explanations," she said, "except that Mr.
Grant saved my life last evening at the risk of his own, and has lost a
night's sleep for his pains."

"That was a man's work," said Y.D. It would not have been possible
for his lips to have framed a greater compliment. "I'm obliged to you,
Grant. You know how it is with us cattlemen; we run mostly to horns and
hoofs, but I suppose we have some heart, too, if you can find it."

They shook hands with as much cordiality as the situation permitted, and
then Zen introduced Transley and Linder, who were in the party. There
were two or three others whom she did not know, but they all shook
hands.

"What happened, Zen?" said Transley, with his usual directness. "Give us
the whole story."

Then she told them what she knew, from the point where she had met Grant
on the fire-encircled hill.

"Two lucky people--two lucky people," was all Transley's comment. Words
could not have expressed the jealousy he felt. But Linder was not too
shy to place his hand with a friendly pressure upon Grant's shoulder.

"Good work," he said, and with two words sealed a friendship.

Two of the unnamed members of the party volunteered their horses to
Zen and Grant, and all hands started back to camp. Y.D. talked almost
garrulously; not even himself had known how heavily the hand of Fate had
lain on him through the