oddler, he had practised on the dogs and chickens about the
ranch-yard. He could not remember when he could not ride. Days on the
round-up, hours of watching the sleeping herd in the night-watch, had
made him quiet and self-contained in his dealings with men. His eyes
looked out fearlessly on the world. All of his life he had handled
cattle. Daily facing dangers on the long drives or in the corral, he
schooled himself to face emergencies. Acquiring self-control, he was
trusted and admired. When Lyman, the old foreman of the Sweetwater
resigned, Jack Payson promoted Sage-brush, although next to Bud Lane he
was at the time the youngest man in the outfit. He made his employer's
interests his own. At the mention of Payson's name he always became
attentive. With a shade of anxiety he awaited Allen's answer.

"No," replied the ranchman, looking from one of his guests to the other.

"Why, he started three hours ahead of us!" explained Parenthesis.

With a challenging note in his tones, as if his word was disputed, the
host answered: "Well, he ain't showed up."

The little group had become silent. Arizona was in a period of unrest.
Rumors of another Apache uprising were growing stronger each day. Then
Payson was successful, and, therefore, despised by less fortunate men
ever eager for a quarrel.

After a moment's thought Sage-brush brushed aside his fears and
brightened up his comrades with the remark: "Mebbe he rid over to
Florence station to get a present for Miss Echo. He said somethin'
about gettin' an artickle from Kansas City."

"Mebbe so," agreed Allen, eager to cast out any forebodings. "It's
time," he continued, "he wuz turnin' up, if this weddin's to be pulled
off by the clock."

"Has the Sky Pilot got here yet?" asked Sage-brush.

"No," replied Allen. "He's started, though. There's one thing sartin,
we can't tighten up the cinches till the bridegroom gits here."

The absence of Jack Payson and the failure of the minister to arrive
aroused the suspicions of Sage-brush. Coming closer to Allen, he
smiled knowingly, and, speaking in a confidential tone, asked:

"Say, Jim, they ain't figgerin' on gittin' away on the sly-like, are
they?"

Show Low interrupted with the explanation: "You see, we're goin' to
decorate the wagon some."

The suggestion that any one connected with Allen Hacienda would ride in
anything on wheels, except the driver of the chuck-wagon out on
round-up, aroused the indign