l," she smiled.

"If I am making believe."

"If you are." Her arms slipped round his neck with a swift impulse of
love. "But you're not. Tell me you're not, Larry."

He told her, in the wordless way lovers have at command, the way that is
more convincing than speech.

So Phyllis, from the troubled waters of doubt, came at last to safe
harborage.

CHAPTER XXIII

AT THE RODEO

There was an exodus from Seven Mile the second day after the fire.
Keller went up Bear Creek, Phyllis accepted the invitation of Bess to
stay with her at the Fiddleback, and her brother returned to the
round-up.

The riders were now combing the Lost Creek watershed. Phil knew the camp
would be either at Peaceful Valley or higher up, near the headwaters of
the creek. Before he reached the valley the steady bawl of cattle told
him that the outfit was camped there. He topped the ridge and looked
down upon Cattleland at its busiest. Just below him was the remuda, the
ponies grazing slowly toward the hills under the care of three
half-grown boys.

Beyond were the herded cattle. Here all was activity. Within the fence
of riders surrounding the wild creatures the cutting out and the
branding were being pushed rapidly forward. Occasionally some leggy
steer, tail up and feet pounding, would make a dash to break the cordon.
Instantly one of the riders would wheel in chase, head off the animal,
and drive it back.

Brill Healy, boss of the rodeo by election, was in charge. He was an
expert handler of cattle, one of the best in the country. It was his
nature to seek the limelight, though it must be said for him that he
rose to his responsibilities. The owners knew that when he was running
the round-up few cattle would slip through the net he wound around them.

"Hello, Brill!" shouted the young man as he rode up.

"Hello, son! Too bad about the fire. I'll want to hear about it later.
Looking for a job?" he flung hurriedly over his shoulder. For he had not
even a minute to spare.

"I reckon."

Phil did not wait to be assigned work, but joined the calf branders.

Not until night had fallen and they were gathered round in a semicircle
leaning against their saddles did Phil find time to tell the story of
the fire. There was some haphazard comment when he had finished, after
which Slim spoke.

"So the nester hauled you out. Ce'tainly looks like he's plumb game. You
said he was afire when he got you into the open, didn't you, Phil?"

Th