uilt. He did not blame her for feeling
bitter toward him; she had done the only thing natural under the
circumstances. He had been very close to the garden of happiness--just
close enough to scent its promise of fulfilled joy, when the gates had
been violently closed in his face, to leave him standing without,
contemplating the ragged path over which he must return to the old life.

He knew that Leviatt had been the instrument that had caused the gates
to close; he knew that it had been he who had dropped the word that had
caused the finger of accusation to point to him. "Stafford didn't hire
you to do it," Mary Radford had said, ironically. The words rang in
his ears still. Who had told her that Stafford had hired him to shoot
Radford? Surely not Stafford. He himself had not hinted at the reason
of his presence at the Two Diamond. And there was only one other man
who knew. That man was Leviatt. As he stood beside the door of the
lean-to the rage in his heart against the range boss grew more bitter,
and the hues around his mouth straightened more grimly.

A few minutes later he stalked into the bunkhouse, among the men who,
after finishing their meal, were lounging about, their small talk
filling the room. The talk died away as he entered, the men adroitly
gave him room, for there was something in the expression of his eyes,
in the steely, boring glances that he cast about him, that told these
men, inured to danger though they were, that the stray-man was in no
gentle mood. He dropped a short word to the one among them that he
knew best, at which they all straightened, for through the word they
knew that he was looking for Leviatt.

But they knew nothing of Leviatt beyond the fact that he and Tucson had
not accompanied the wagon to the home ranch. They inferred that the
range boss and Tucson had gone about some business connected with the
cattle. Therefore Ferguson did not stop long in the bunkhouse.
Without a word he was gone, striding rapidly toward the ranchhouse.
They looked after him, saying nothing, but aware that his quest for
Leviatt was not without significance.

Five minutes later he was in Stafford's office. The latter had been
worrying about him. When Ferguson entered the manager's manner was a
trifle anxious.

"You seen anything of Radford yet?" he inquired.

"I ain't got anything on Radford," was the short reply.

His tone angered the manager. "I ain't askin' if you've got anything