eptically regard the fictitious cowboy.

This gentleman of the range wore a huge sombrero with an ornamented
silver band, a silken scarf of red, a black velvet shirt, much affected
by the Indians, an embroidered buckskin vest, corduroys, and fringed
chaps with silver buttons, a big blue gun swinging low, high heeled
boots, and long spurs with silver rowels.

A flash cowboy! Steele vowed I was a born actor.

But I never divulged the fact that had it not been for my infatuation
for Sally, I never could have carried on that part, not to save the
Ranger service, or the whole State of Texas.

The hardest part had not been the establishing of a reputation. The
scorn of cowboys, the ridicule of gamblers, the badinage of the young
bucks of the settlement--these I had soon made dangerous procedures for
any one. I was quick with tongue and fist and gun.

There had been fights and respect was quickly earned, though the
constant advent of strangers in Linrock always had me in hot water.

Moreover, instead of being difficult, it was fun to spend all the time
I could in the hotels and resorts, shamming a weakness for drink,
gambling, lounging, making friends among the rough set, when all the
time I was a cool, keen registering machine.

The hard thing was the lie I lived in the eyes of Diane Sampson and
Sally Langdon.

I had indeed won the sincere regard of my employer. Her father, her
cousin George, and new-made friends in town had come to her with tales
of my reckless doings, and had urged my dismissal.

But she kept me and all the time pleaded like a sister to have me mend
my vicious ways. She believed what she was told about me, but had faith
in me despite that.

As for Sally, I had fallen hopelessly in love with her. By turns Sally
was indifferent to me, cold, friendly like a comrade, and dangerously
sweet.

Somehow she saw through me, knew I was not just what I pretended to be.
But she never breathed her conviction. She championed me. I wanted to
tell her the truth about myself because I believed the doubt of me alone
stood in the way of my winning her.

Still that might have been my vanity. She had never said she cared for
me although she had looked it.

This tangle of my personal life, however, had not in the least affected
my loyalty and duty to Vaughn Steele. Day by day I had grown more
attached to him, keener in the interest of our work.

It had been a busy month--a month of foundation building. My vigilan