as a flutter in the flanks to show that the climb had cost him an
effort.

"It's a dang darn shame I got to straddle strange horses just because
there ain't another in the country like you, Coaley," he muttered,
leaning forward to smooth the silky hide under the crinkly mane. "It's
going to set hard, now I'm tellin' yuh, to throw my saddle on some
plain, ordinary cayuse. But it's a bet I can't afford to overlook;
they made that plain enough."

Coaley pricked up his ears and looked, his big, bright eyes taking in
the shadow of a horse beside a clump of wild currant bushes that grew
in the very base of the Devil's Tooth. Tom grunted and rode over that
way, Coaley walking slowly, his knees bending springily like a dancer
feeling out his muscles.

Lance stood with his back toward them. His hat was pushed far back on
his head, and he was looking at Mary Hope, who leaned against the rock
and stared down into the valley below. Her hair, Tom observed, was not
"slicked back" to-day. It had been curled a little, probably on rags
twisted in after she had gone to bed and taken out before she arose in
the morning, lest her mother discover her frivolity and lecture her
long,--and, worse still, make her wet a comb and take all of the curl
out. A loose strand blew across her tanned cheek, so that she reached
up absently and tucked it behind her ear, where it would not stay for
longer than a minute.

"I am sure I didna know you would be here," she said, without taking
her eyes off the valley. "It is a view I like better than most, and I
have a right to ride where I please. And I have no wish to ride out of
my way to be friends with any one that tried to make my father out a
liar and an unjust man. He may be hard, but he is honest. And that is
more than some--"

"More than some can say--us Lorrigans, for instance!"

"I didna say that, but if the coat fits, you can put it on."

Mary Hope bit her lip and lashed a weed with her quirt. "All of this
is none of my doing," she added, with a dullness in her voice that may
have meant either regret or resentment. "You hate my father, and you
are mad because I canna side with you and hate him too. I am sorry the
trouble came up, but I canna see how you expect me to go on coming to
see your mither when you know my father would never permit it."

"You say that like you were speaking a piece. How long did you lay
awake last night, making it up? You can't make me swallow that,
anyway. Your f