to you.
They ain't nothin' will cure that complaint but petticoats an'
smiles--the which is mighty dangerous an' uncertain. I knowed a man
once----"

Harlan got up and walked to the bunkhouse. And Linton, grinning, called
loudly after him, pretending astonishment.

"Why, he's gone. Disappeared complete. An' me tryin' to jam some sense
into his head."

Grinning, Linton sauntered away, vanishing within the blacksmith-shop.

He had hardly disappeared when Haydon appeared from around a corner of
the ranchhouse, at about the instant Harlan, sensing the departure of
Linton, came to the door, frowning.

The frown still narrowed Harlan's eyes when they rested upon the
horseman; and his brows were drawn together with unmistakable truculence
when Haydon dismounted near the corral fence.

Haydon's manner had undergone a change. When in the presence of Barbara
he had been confident, nonchalant. When he dismounted from his horse and
walked toward Harlan there was about him an atmosphere that suggested
carefulness. Before Haydon had taken half a dozen steps Harlan was aware
that the man knew him--knew of his reputation--and feared him.

Respect was in Haydon's eyes, in the droop of his shoulders, in his
hesitating step. And into Harlan's eyes came a gleam of that contempt
which had always seized him when in the presence of men who feared him.

And yet, had not Harlan possessed the faculty of reading character at a
glance; had he not had that uncanny instinct of divining the thoughts of
men who meditated violence, he could not have known that Haydon feared
him.

For Haydon's fear was not abject. It was that emotion which counsels
caution, which warns of a worthy antagonist, which respects force that is
elemental and destroying.

Haydon smiled as he halted within a few paces of Harlan and turned the
palms of his hands outward.

"You're 'Drag' Harlan, of Pardo," he said.

Harlan nodded.

"My name's Haydon. I own the Star--about fifteen miles west--on Sunset
Trail. I happen to be a friend of Miss Morgan's, and I'd like to talk
with you about the Rancho Seco."

"Get goin'."

Haydon's smile grew less expansive.

"It's a rather difficult subject to discuss. It rather seems to be none
of my affair. But you will understand, being interested in Barbara's
future, and in the welfare of the ranch, why I am presuming to question
you. What do you intend to do with the ranch?"

"Run it."

"Of course," smiled Haydon. "I mean,