t of him on his saddle. It was curious, he thought, as
he rode closer, that one Indian was not on guard. Still, it was probable
that they had grown careless through past successes. He was within a
hundred yards of the butchers before they saw him.

"Hello!" Yellow Bird's voice was friendly.

"Hello!" Ralston answered.

"Fat cow. Fine beef," vouchsafed the Indian.

"Fine beef," agreed Ralston. "Can I help you?"

The MacDonald brand stood out boldly on the cow's flank!

Ralston watched them until they had loaded their meat upon the pack-horses
and started homeward. One thing was certain: if Running Rabbit had
butchered the Bar C cattle, he had done so under a white man's
supervision. In this instance, with an Indian's usual economy in the
matter of meat, he had left little but the horns and hoofs. The Bar C
cattle had been butchered with the white man's indifference to waste.

Any one of the bunk-house crowd, except McArthur, Ralston believed to be
quite capable of stealing cattle for beef purposes. But if they had been
stealing systematically, as it would appear, why had they killed MacDonald
cattle to-day? Ralston still regarded the affair of the fresh hide as too
suspicious a circumstance to be overlooked, and he meant to learn which of
the white grub-liners had been absent. He reasoned that the Indians had a
wholesome fear of Colonel Tolman, and that it was unlikely they would
venture upon his range for such a purpose without a white man's moral
support.

Smith had been missing frequently of late and for so long as two days at
a time, but this could not be regarded as peculiar, since the habits of
all the grub-liners were more or less erratic. They disappeared and
reappeared, with no explanation of their absence.

In his present frame of mind, Ralston had no desire to return immediately
to the ranch. He wanted to be alone; to harden his heart against Dora; to
prepare his mind for more shocks such as he had had of late. It was not an
easy task he had set himself.

After a time he dismounted, and, throwing down his bridle-reins, dropped
to the ground to rest, while his horse nibbled contentedly at the sparse
bunch-grass. As he lay in the sunshine, his hands clasped behind his head,
the stillness acted like a sedative, and something of the tranquillity
about him crept into his soul.

Upon one thing he was determined, and that was, come what might, to be a
_man_--a gentleman. If in his conceit and eagerness he