man to take advantage of a girl when she was all alone. If he wished
to kiss her when her mother was present, ah, that was different. Yes,
she would forgive him this one time if he truly were very sorry, but
he must never, never frighten her so again. And her eyes flashed a
smile at him that flouted every word she said.

As the three men rode away Tuttle asked:

"Emerson, did she really mean what she said about Nick's frightening
her?"

Mead looked at him with an indulgent smile: "Tom Tuttle, you're the
biggest maverick I ever saw. I reckon havin' a man want to kiss her
ain't such an unusual thing that it's goin' to frighten Amada Garcia
into a conniption fit."

"What in thunder was the matter with her then?" said Ellhorn, a bit
nettled over the outcome of his gallantry. "It couldn't have been
because she didn't want me to kiss her."

Mead broke into a loud, hearty roar, Tuttle grinned broadly, and
Ellhorn regarded the two of them with an angry look. Mead leaned over
and slapped his shoulder.

"Nick, you're a devil of a fellow with the women, and I know it as
well as you do. I guess Amada's not very different from the rest of
'em, if she did stop your performance. She looked as if she saw a
ghost, and maybe she thought she did. These Mexicans are a
superstitious lot. Maybe she's kissed one too many some time and
happened to think of it just when it spoiled your fun."

"She's a stunner, anyway!" said Ellhorn enthusiastically, his good
humor restored. "I say, Emerson, is she straight?"

"I guess so. Yes, I sure reckon she must be, or Juan Garcia would have
made trouble. Old Juan and his wife are fine old people, and any man
who wronged Amada would have to answer for it to her father. He'd have
to either kill the old man or be killed himself in mighty short order.
Oh, yes, Amada's a good girl, but she's an awful little flirt."

As soon as the cattle were secured in the pens at the railroad
station, ready to be transferred to the cars, Emerson Mead put spurs
to his horse and rode off alone to the northward without a word to his
friends. Nick and Tom, perched on the high fence of a cattle-pen,
watched him gallop away with amazement. His action was unusual and
surprising, for when the three were together where one went the others
went also, or, at least, knew all about it. The two left behind
discussed what it might mean. Nick watched him until, half a dozen
blocks away, he turned off toward the mountains from whic