lmost snatched the pipe and tobacco out
of the cowman's hand. The latter gravely shook his head.

"Got it that bad, have you?" he deplored.

Ashton could not answer until his pipe was well under way.

"I'm--I'm breaking off," he replied. "Haven't had a cigarette all
day--nor anything else. A-ah!"

"Glad you like it," said Knowles. "A pipe is all right with this kind
of tobacco. You can't inhale it like you can cigarettes, unless you
want to strangle."

"I shall break off entirely as soon as I can," asserted Ashton.

"Well," considered Knowles, "I'm not saying you can't or won't. It's
mighty curious what a young fellow can do to please a pretty girl.
Just the same, I'd say from the color of Kid's fingers that he hasn't
forgotten how to roll a fat Mexican _cigaretto_.--Hello! 'Talk of the
devil--' Here he comes now."

Gowan came around the corner of the house, his spurs jingling. His
eyes were as cold and his face as emotionless as usual.

"Well?" asked Knowles. "Have a seat."

"Didn't get him," reported Gowan, dropping into a chair. "Near as I
could make out, he cut straight across for the railroad, on the
jump."

"Then it must have been that guide!" exclaimed Ashton.

"Looks that way," added Knowles. "Glad of it. We won't see him again,
unless you want to notify the sheriff, when you ride over tomorrow."

"No, oh, no. I am satisfied to be rid of him."

"If he don't come back," remarked Gowan.

"He won't," predicted Knowles.

"Well, not for a time maybe," agreed Gowan.

CHAPTER VIII

A MAN'S SIZE HORSE

At dusk the sonorous boom of a Japanese gong gave warning of the
approach of the supper hour. A few minutes later a second booming
summoned all in to the meal. Miss Isobel sat at one end of the table;
her father at the other. Along the sides were the employes, Ashton and
Gowan at the corners nearest the girl. A large coal oil lamp with an
artistic shade cast a pink light on the clean white oilcloth of the
table and the simple tasteful table service.

Yuki, the silent Jap, served all with strict impartiality, starting
with the mistress of the house and going around the table in regular
succession, either one way or the other. The six rough-appearing
haymakers used their knives with a freedom to which Ashton was
unaccustomed, but their faces were clean, their behavior quiet, and
their occasional remarks by no means inapt.

After the meal they wished Miss Knowles a pleasant "Good-night," and