ask him to ride home with
us--won't we, Jimmie? It would never do to have them reach the ranch too
late," she said, making room for Keller in the seat beside her.

It was after she had driven several hundred yards that he said, with a
smile: "I met a young man on horseback as I was coming up. He went by me
like a streak of light. Looked like he found this a right mournful
world. You had ought to scatter sunshine and not gloom, Miss Phyllis."

"Am I scattering gloom?" she asked demurely.

"Not right now," he laughed. "But looks like you have been."

She flicked a fly from the flank of her horse before she answered: "Some
people are so noticing."

"It was hanging right heavy on him. Had the look of a man who had lost
his last friend," the young man observed meditatively.

"Dear me! How pathetic!"

"Yes--he sure looked like he'd rejoice to plug another cattleman. I
'most arranged to send for Buck Weaver again," said Keller calmly.

Phyllis turned on him eyes brilliant with amazement. "What's that you
say?"

"I said he looked some like he'd admire to go gunning again."

"Yes, but you said too----"

"Sho! I've been using my eyes and ears. I never did find that story of
yours easy to swallow. When I discovered from your brother that you was
riding with Tom Dixon the day Buck was shot, and when I found out from
'Rastus that the gun that did the shooting was Dixon's, I surely smelt a
mouse. Come to mill the thing out, I knew you led Buck's boys off on a
blind trail, while the real coyote hunted cover."

"He isn't a coyote," she objected.

Larrabie thought of the youth with a faint smile of scorn. He knew how
to respect an out-and-out villain; but there was no bottom to a man who
would shoot from cover without warning, and then leave a girl to bear
the blame of his wrongdoing. "No--I reckon coyote is too big a name for
him," he admitted.

"Buck Weaver ruined his father and drove him from his homestead. It was
natural he should feel a grudge."

"That's all right, too. We're talking about the way he settled it. How
come you to let him do it?"

"I was riding about twenty yards behind him. Suddenly I saw his gun go
up, and stopped. I thought it might be an antelope. As soon as he had
fired, he turned and told me he had shot Weaver. The poor boy was crazy
with fear, now that he had done it. I took his gun and made him hide in
the big rocks, while I cut across toward the canon. The men saw me, and
gave chase."

"