e to be able to describe him."

"But we think it may have been his guide," explained the girl.

"Guide?" muttered Gowan, staring intently at Ashton.

"Yes. You see, if he was mean enough to help steal Mr. Ashton's
outfit, he--"

"Shore, I savvy!" exclaimed the puncher. "I'll rope a couple of fresh
hawsses, and go out with Mr. Ashton after the two-legged wolf."

"That's like you, Kid! But you must wait at least until you've both
had dinner. Mr. Ashton, I'm sure, is half starved."

"Me, too, Miss Chuckie. But you know I'd rather eat a wolf or a
rustler or even a daring desperado than sinkers and beans, any day."

"You'll come in with us and see what Daddy has to say about it," the
girl insisted.

She started to loosen her saddle-cinch. Gowan handed back the silver
flask, and stripping off saddle and bridle from her horse, placed them
on the rail beside his own. Ashton waited, as if expecting a like
service. The puncher started off beside Miss Isobel without looking at
him. Ashton flushed hotly, and hastened to do his own unsaddling.

CHAPTER VII

THE CHANCE OF RECLAMATION

Beyond the bunkhouse, which was the nearest building to the corral,
stood the low but roomy log structure of the main ranch house. As
Ashton came around the front corner, close behind Gowan and the girl,
Knowles rose from his comfortable chair in the rustic porch, knocked
out the half burned contents of his pipe and extended a freckled,
corded hand to the stranger.

"Howdy, Mr. Ashton! Glad to see you!" he said with hearty hospitality.
"Hope you've come to ease up our lonesomeness by a month or two's
visit."

"Why, I--You're too kind, really!" replied Ashton, his voice quavering
and breaking at the unexpected cordiality of the welcome. "If you--I
shall take advantage of your generous offer. You see, I'm rather in a
box, owing to my--" He caught himself up, and tightened his slackening
lip. "But you'll pardon me if I ask you to let me do something in
return for your hospitality."

"We don't sell our hospitality on the range," brusquely replied the
cowman.

"Oh, no, no, I did not mean--I could not pay a penny. I'm utterly
destitute--a--a pauper!" A spasm of bitter despair contorted his
handsome face.

Knowles and the girl hastily looked away from him, that they might not
see him in his weakness. But he rallied and forced a rather unsteady
laugh at himself. "You see, I haven't quite got used to it yet. I've
always had money. I