d and his assassin
disappeared without being seen.

CHAPTER II

A MEETING AND A PARTING

Had some one of Gordon Wade's multitude of admirers in the East seen him
as he stood looking out over his Wyoming ranch, he might have recognized
the true cowboy composure with which the ranchman faced the coming
storm, but he would not have recognized the stripling who had won
scholastic and athletic honors at Princeton a few short years before,
and who had spent a year after graduating in aimless travel and reckless
adventure.

After flitting rapidly and at random almost all over the habitable
globe, he had returned to his home in New York with some thought of
settling down there, but the old family mansion was empty excepting for
the servants, and his sense of loneliness and sorrow for the loved ones
who were no longer there to greet him, drove him on speedily and he
turned toward the West to explore his own country last of all, as so
many other travelers do.

Attracted by the surpassing beauty of the country, he had lingered in
Wyoming long enough to feel fascination of the ranch life that was then
to be found in all its perfection in the wilder part of that State, and
realizing that he had found the precise location and vocation that
suited him, he had converted his modest fortune into cash, and invested
all in the Double Arrow Ranch.

But on his way thither, he had stopped in Chicago, and there he had come
face to face with Romance.

Before he had gone a dozen steps after getting off the train, some one
dealt him a mighty blow between the shoulders, that well nigh sent him
spinning. Before he could recover himself, he was caught from behind and
hurled headlong into a taxicab.

"I've heard of Western hospitality before," he said, calmly, before he
could see who his assailant was, "but you seem to be hard up for
guests."

"No," said his college chum, George Stout, grinning happily as he
clambered into the taxi, "but I wasn't taking chances; somebody else
might have seen you first."

Followed three feverish days and nights; then as they sat in pajamas in
Stout's apartment, Wade said: "I don't imagine there is anything more to
see or do in this hectic city of yours, and I am free to say I don't
like it; I think I'll move on."

"Not yet," said Stout, with the grin that endeared him to everybody that
ever met him. "You've only seen the outside edges so far. To-night you
are going to break into society."

"D