has. I am certain that
nobody with so tender a heart could be really bad."

But the incident separated the range girl from the young man from
Amarillo for the time being. Silent Sam and Frances had some trouble in
getting the dogs off the antelope trail.

When they started the next bunch of jack-rabbits from the brush, Frances
was with the foreman and the Mexican boy, and acted with them as
beaters. The visitors had great fun bagging the animals.

Frances, rather glad to escape from the crowd for a time, spurred Molly
down the far side of the stream, having crossed it in a shallow place.
She was out of sight of the hunters, and soon out of sound. They had
turned back and were going up stream again.

The ranchman's daughter pulled in Molly at the brink of a little hollow
beside the stream. There was a cleared space in the centre
and--yes--there was a fireplace and ashes. Thick brush surrounded the
camping place save on the side next to the stream.

"Wonder who could have been here? And recently, too. There's smoke
rising from those embers."

This was Frances' unspoken thought. She let Molly step nearer. Trees
overhung the place. She saw that it was as secret a spot as she had seen
along the river side, and her thought flashed to Pete, the ex-orderly of
the Bylittle Soldiers' Home.

Then she turned in her saddle suddenly and saw the very man standing
near her, rifle in hand. His leering smile frightened her.

Although he said never a word, Frances' hand tightened on Molly's rein.
The next moment she would have spurred the pinto up the hill; but a
drawling voice within a yard of her spoke.

"How-do, Frances? 'Light, won't yer?" and there followed Ratty M'Gill's
well-known laugh. "We didn't expect ye; but ye're welcome just the
same."

Ratty's hand was on Molly's bridle-rein. Frances knew that she was a
prisoner.

CHAPTER XXII

WHAT PRATT THOUGHT

The party of visitors to the Edwards ranch tired of jack-shooting and
jack-running before noon. Jose Reposa had cached a huge hamper of lunch
which the Bar-T cook had put up, and he softly suggested to Mrs. Edwards
that the company be called together and luncheon made ready, with hot
coffee for all.

"But where's Pratt?" cried somebody.

"And Miss Rugley?" asked another.

"Oh, I guess you'll find them together somewhere," snapped Sue Latrop.

She had felt neglected by her "hero" for the last hour, and was in the
sulks, accordingly.

Pratt, however,