uth she was not sorry in her
heart to see the smiling countenance of Pratt Sanderson.

"Hold on, Frances! Ye better listen to me a minute!" shouted the
ex-cowboy behind her.

She gave him no attention. Molly sprang ahead and she met Pratt not far
from the wagon. He stopped abruptly, as did the girl of the ranges.
Ratty M'Gill brought his own mount to a sudden halt within a few yards.

"Hello!" exclaimed Pratt. "What's the matter, Frances?"

"Why, Pratt! How came you and your friends to be riding this way?"
returned the range girl.

She saw the red coat of the girl from Boston in the party passing the
slowly moving wagon, and she was not at all sure that she was glad to
see Pratt, after all!

But the young man had seen something suspicious in the manner in which
Ratty M'Gill had been following Frances. The fellow now sat easily in
his saddle at a little distance and rolled a cigarette, leering in the
meantime at the ranch girl and her friend.

"What does that fellow want?" demanded Pratt again.

"Oh, don't mind him," said Frances, hurriedly. "He has been discharged
from the Bar-T----"

"That's the fellow you said made the steers stampede?" Pratt
interrupted.

"Yes."

"Don't like his looks," the Amarillo young man said, frankly. "Glad we
came up as we did."

"But you must go on with your friends, Pratt," said Frances, faintly.

"Goodness! there are enough of them, and the other fellows can get 'em
all back to Mr. Bill Edwards' in time for supper," laughed Pratt. "I
believe I'll go on with you. Where are you bound?"

"To Peckham's ranch," said Frances, faintly. "We shall stop there
to-night."

The rest of the party passed, and Frances bowed to them. Sue Latrop
looked at the ranch girl, curiously, but scarcely inclined her head.
Frances felt that if she allowed Pratt to escort her she would make the
Boston girl more of an enemy than she already felt her to be.

"We--we don't really need you, Pratt," said Frances. "Mack is all
right----"

"That fellow asleep on the wagon-seat? Lots of good _he_ is as an
escort," laughed Pratt.

"But I don't really need you," said the girl, weakly.

"Oh! don't be so offish!" cried the young man, more seriously. "Don't
you suppose I'd be glad of the chance to ride with you for a way?"

"But your friends----"

"You're a friend of mine," said Pratt, seriously. "I don't like the look
of that Ratty M'Gill. I'm going to Peckham's with you."

What could Frances say? Rat