s, Mr. McWilliams."

"That ain't my name, Nora, darling, and I'd like to know where my arm
belongs if it isn't round the prettiest girl in Wyoming. What's the use
of being engaged if--"

"I'm not sure I'm going to stay engaged to you," announced the young
woman coolly, walking at the opposite edge of the path from him.

"Now that ain't any way to talk."

"You needn't lecture me. I'm not your wife and I don't think I'm going
to be," cut in Nora, whose temper was ruffled on account of having had
to wait for him as well as for other reasons.

"Y'u surely wouldn't make me sue y'u for breach of promise, would y'u?"
he demanded, with a burlesque of anxiety that was the final straw.

Nora turned on her heel and headed for the house.

"Now don't y'u get mad at me, honey. I was only joking," he explained as
he pursued her.

"You think you can laugh at me all you please. I'll show you that you
can't," she informed him icily.

"Sho! I wasn't laughing at y'u. What tickled me--"

"I'm not interested in your amusement, Mr. McWilliams."

"What's the use of flying out about a little thing like that? Honest,
I don't even know what you're mad at me for," the perplexed foreman
averred.

"I'm not mad at you, as you call it. I'm simply disgusted."

And with a final "Good night" flung haughtily over her shoulder Miss
Nora Darling disappeared into the house.

Mac took off his hat and gazed at the door that had been closed in his
face. He scratched his puzzled poll in vain.

"I ce'tainly got mine good and straight just like Reddy got his. But
what in time was it all about? And me thinkin' I was a graduate in the
study of the ladies. I reckon I never did get jarred up so. It's plumb
discouraging."

If he could have caught a glimpse of Nora at that moment, lying on her
bed and crying as if her heart would break, Mac might have found the
situation less hopeless.

CHAPTER 21. THE SIGNAL LIGHTS

In a little hill-rift about a mile back of the Lazy D Ranch was a
deserted miner's cabin.

The hut sat on the edge of a bluff that commanded a view of the
buildings below, while at the same time the pines that surrounded it
screened the shack from any casual observation. A thin curl of smoke was
rising from the mud chimney, and inside the cabin two men lounged before
the open fire.

"It's his move, and he is going to make it soon. Every night I look
for him to drop down on the ranch. His hate's kind of volcanic, Mr. Ned
Bannis