nrock he was not often seen in town. At the tables, at the bars and
lounging places remarks went the rounds:

"Who's thet Ranger after? What'll he do fust off? Is he waitin' fer
somebody? Who's goin' to draw on him fust--an' go to hell? Jest about
how soon will he be found somewhere full of lead?"

Those whom it was my interest to cultivate grew more curious, more
speculative and impatient as time went by. When it leaked out somewhere
that Steele was openly cultivating the honest stay-at-home citizens, to
array them in time against the other element, then Linrock showed its
wolf teeth hinted of in the letters to Captain Neal.

Several times Steele was shot at in the dark and once slightly injured.
Rumor had it that Jack Blome, the gunman of those parts, was coming in
to meet Steele. Part of Linrock awakened and another part, much smaller,
became quieter, more secluded.

Strangers upon whom we could get no line mysteriously came and went. The
drinking, gambling, fighting in the resorts seemed to gather renewed
life. Abundance of money floated in circulation.

And rumors, vague and unfounded, crept in from Sanderson and other
points, rumors of a gang of rustlers off here, a hold-up of the stage
off here, robbery of a rancher at this distant point, and murder done at
another.

This was Texas and New Mexico life in these frontier days but, strangely
neither Steele nor I had yet been able to associate any rumor or act
with a possible gang of rustlers in Linrock.

Nevertheless we had not been discouraged. After three weeks of waiting
we had become alive to activity around us, and though it was unseen, we
believed we would soon be on its track.

My task was the busier and the easier. Steele had to have a care for his
life. I never failed to caution him of this.

My long reflection on the month's happenings and possibilities was
brought to an end by the disappearance of Miss Sampson and Sally.

My employer looked worried. Sally was in a regular cowgirl riding
costume, in which her trim, shapely figure showed at its best, and her
face was saucy, sparkling, daring.

"Good morning, Russ," said Miss Sampson and she gazed searchingly at me.
I had dropped off the fence, sombrero in hand. I knew I was in for a
lecture, and I put on a brazen, innocent air.

"Did you break your promise to me?" she asked reproachfully.

"Which one?" I asked. It was Sally's bright eyes upon me, rather than
Miss Sampson's reproach, that both