which still stood intact. She
showed no interest in this. The sight below turned her weak and sick.
She wanted but to get away from it all.

Harris pointed as they rode down the slope. The little cabin that old
Bill Harris had first erected on the Three Bar, and which had later
sheltered the Warrens when they came into possession of the brand,
stood solid and unharmed among the blackened ruins which hemmed it in
on all sides.

"Look, girl!" he exclaimed triumphantly.

"Look at that little house. The Three Bar was started with that! We
have as much as our folks started with--and more. They even had to
build that. We'll start where our folks did and grow."

XVI

Harris sat on a baggage truck and regarded the heap of luggage
somberly. Way off in the distance a dark blot of smoke marked the
location of the onrushing train which would take the Three Bar girl
away.

"Some day you'll be wanting to come back, old partner," he predicted
hopefully.

Billie shook her head. There is a certain relief which floods the
heart when the worst has passed. Looking forward and anticipating the
possible ruin of the Three Bar, she had thought such a contingency
would end her interest in life and she had resolutely refused to look
beyond it into the future. Now that it was wrecked in reality she
found that she looked forward with a faint interest to what the future
held in store for her,--that it was the past in which her interest was
dead.

"Not dead, girl; only dormant," Harris said, when she remarked upon
this fact. "Like a seed in frozen ground. In the spring it will come
to life and sprout. The Three Bar isn't hurt. We're in better shape
than ever before and a clear field out in front; for the country is
cleaned up and the law is clamped on top."

She honestly tried to rouse a spark of interest deep within her, some
ray of enthusiasm for the future of the Three Bar. But there was no
response. She assured herself again that the old brand which had meant
so much to her meant less than nothing now. That part of her was dead.

The trail of smoke was drawing near and there was a rhythmic clicking
along the rails. Harris leaned and kissed her.

"Just once for luck," he said, and slipped from his seat on the truck
as the train roared in. It halted with a screech of brakes and he
handed her up the steps.

"Good-by, little fellow," he said. "I'll see you next round-up time."

As the train slid away fro