he showed up the moment I expected him."

"Still there might have been another man there singing."

"One chance in a million," he conceded.

A sudden hope flamed up like tow in her heart. Perhaps, after all, Ned
Bannister was not the leader of the outlaws. Perhaps somebody else was
masquerading in his name, using Bannister's unpopularity as a shield to
cover his iniquities. Still, this was an unlikely hypothesis, she had to
admit. For why should he allow his good name to be dragged in the dust
without any effort to save it? On a sudden impulse the girl confided her
doubt to McWilliams.

"You don't suppose there can be any mistake, do you? Somehow I can't
think him as bad as they say. He looks awfully reckless, but one feels
one could trust his face."

"Same here," agreed the new foreman. "First off when I saw him my think
was, 'I'd like to have that man backing my play when I'm sitting in the
game with Old Man Hard Luck reaching out for my blue chips.'"

"You don't think faces lie, do you?"

"I've seen them that did, but, gen'rally speaking, tongues are a heap
likelier to get tangled with the truth. But I reckon there ain't any
doubt about Bannister. He's known over all this Western country."

The young woman sighed. "I'm afraid you're right."

CHAPTER 5. THE DANCE AT FRASER'S

"Heard tell yet of the dance over to Fraser's?"

He was a young man of a brick red countenance and he wore loosely round
his neck the best polka dot silk handkerchief that could be bought in
Gimlet Butte, also such gala attire as was usually reserved only for
events of importance. Sitting his horse carelessly in the plainsman's
indolent fashion, he asked his question of McWilliams in front of the
Lazy D bunkhouse.

"Nope. When does the shindig come off?"

"Friday night. Big thing. Y'u want to be there. All y'u lads."

"Mebbe some of us will ride over."

He of the polka dot kerchief did not appear quite satisfied. His glance
wandered toward the house, as it had been doing occasionally since the
moment of his arrival.

"Y'u bet this dance is ace high, Mac. Fancy costumes and masks. Y'u can
rent the costumes over to Slauson's for three per. Texas, he's going to
call the dances. Music from Gimlet Butte. Y'u want to get it tucked away
in your thinker that this dance ain't on the order of culls. No, sirree,
it's cornfed."

"Glad to hear of it. I'll cipher out somehow to be there, Slim."

Slim's glance took in the ranchhouse ag