it now, lest he might seem to be urging his
services as a claim upon her. But the words had slipped out in spite of
him.

She held out her two hands to him with a little gesture of surrender. The
light of love was in her starry eyes.

And then----

She was in his arms, and the kisses he had dreamed about were on his
lips.

CHAPTER XVIII

CUTTING TRAIL

Kate Cullison had disappeared, had gone out riding one morning and at
nightfall had not returned. As the hours passed, anxiety at the Circle C
became greater.

"Mebbe she got lost," Bob suggested.

Her father scouted this as absurd. "Lost nothing. You couldn't lose her
within forty miles of the ranch. She knows this country like a cow does
the range. And say she was lost--all she would have to do would be to give
that pinto his head and he'd hit a bee line for home. No, nor she ain't
had an accident either, unless it included the pony too."

"You don't reckon a cougar----," began Sweeney, and stopped.

Luck looked at his bandy-legged old rider with eyes in which little cold
devils sparkled. "A human cougar, I'll bet. This time I'll take his hide
off inch by inch while he's still living."

"You thinking of Fendrick?" asked Sam.

"You've said it."

Sweeney considered, rasping his stubbly chin. "I don't reckon Cass would
do Miss Kate a meanness. He's a white man, say the worst of him. But it
might be Blackwell. When last seen he was heading into the hills. If he
met her----"

A spasm of pain shot across Luck's face. "My God! That would be awful."

"By Gum, there he is now, Luck." Sweeney's finger pointed to an advancing
rider.

Cullison swung as on a pivot in time to see someone drop into the dip in
the road, just beyond the corral. "Who--Blackwell?"

"No. Cass."

Fendrick reappeared presently and turned in at the lane. Cullison,
standing on the porch at the head of the steps looked like a man who was
passing through the inferno. But he looked too a personified day of
judgment untempered by mercy. His eyes bored like steel gimlets into those
of his enemy.

The sheepman spoke, looking straight at his foe. "I've just heard the
news. I was down at Yesler's ranch when you 'phoned asking if they had
seen anything of Miss Cullison. I came up to ask you one question. When
was she seen last?"

"About ten o'clock this morning. Why?"

"I saw her about noon. She was on Mesa Verde, headed for Blue Canyon
looked like."

"Close enough to speak to he