s ways--shouting, laughing, singing,
gayly bantering one another as they capered beside the cattle; but the
older men rode grimly on, grinning tolerantly, knowing that the time
would come when the faces of the younger men would grow stern and set
from the ceaseless activity, the long night watches, the deadly monotony
and the thousand inconveniences of the long drive.

Many of Willets' men were watching the departure of the herd. They stood
on the street, in doorways; and in some windows were women. For rumor
had been whispering during the past few days, and it was known that Kane
Lawler had defied the powerful forces which were attempting to control
the mediums of trade in the section; and there were many of the watchers
who sent silent applause after the departing herd. They were aware of
the hazards that confronted Lawler and his men--hazards enough without
the additional menace of the invisible power, of which most of the
inhabitants of Willets knew nothing.

However, Caldwell knew. He was standing in the doorway of the Willets
Hotel; and his face was drawn and seamed with gravity as he watched.

Gary Warden knew. For he stood in the street in front of the Wolf,
watching, his eyes glowing with malice.

Singleton knew. He was standing near Warden, in the grip of a malign
anticipation. His lips were bestially pouted.

"Showed yellow at the last minute," he whispered to Warden; "only
drivin' about half of them. Well, we'll take care of them he's leavin'
before the winter's over."

CHAPTER XII

THE NIGHT WIND'S MYSTERY

After the departure of Lawler on the night of Gary Warden's visit to the
Hamlin cabin, silence, vast and deep reigned inside. The last golden
shadows from the sinking sun were turning somber shades of twilight as
Ruth came to the door and peered outward, to see Lawler riding away.

For a long time the girl watched Lawler, her face burning with shame
over what had happened, her senses revolting from the realization of the
things Lawler knew concerning her father. Then she seated herself on the
threshold of the doorway, watching the long shadows steal over the
plains.

She loved Lawler; she never had attempted to deny it, not even to
herself. And she had found it hard to restrain herself when he had stood
outside the door of her room gravely pleading with her. Only pride had
kept her from yielding--the humiliating conviction that she was not good
enough for him--or rather that her fathe