wn hand and looked at him with
frank curiosity. He had just been hearing a lot about this
good-looking stranger who had dropped into the park.

"See Jess Tighe? What did he say about the windmill?" asked Charlton.

"Wanted to think it over," answered Beaudry.

Beulah had drawn her brother to one side, but as Roy talked with
Charlton he heard what the other two said, though each spoke in a low
voice.

"Where you going, Ned?" the sister asked.

"Oh, huntin' strays."

"Home to-night?"

"Reckon not."

"What deviltry are you and Brad up to now? This will be the third
night you've been away--and before that it was Jeff."

"S-sh!" Ned flashed a warning look in the direction of her guest.

But Beulah was angry. Tighe had warned her to be careful what she told
Street. She distrusted the cripple profoundly. Half the evil that
went on in the park was plotted by him. There had been a lot of
furtive whispering about the house for a week or more. Her instinct
told her that there was in the air some discreditable secret. More
than once she had wondered whether her people had been the express
company robbers for whom a reward was out. She tried to dismiss the
suspicion from her mind, for the fear of it was like a leaden weight at
her heart. But many little things contributed to the dread.
Rutherford had sent her just at that time to spend the week at Battle
Butte. Had it been to get her out of the way? She remembered that her
father had made to her no explanation of that scene in which she and
Dave Dingwell had played the leading parts. There had been many
journeyings back and forth on the part of the boys and Charlton and her
uncle, Buck Rutherford. They had a way of getting off into a corner of
the corral and talking low for hours at a time. And now Street had
come into the tangle. Were they watching him for fear he might be a
detective?

Her resentment against him and them boiled over into swift wrath.
"You're a fine lot--all of you. I'd like to wash my hands clean of the
whole outfit." She turned on her heel and strode limping to the house.

Ned laughed as he swung to the back of one of the two broncos waiting
with drooped heads before the porch. He admired this frank, forthright
sister who blazed so handsomely into rage. He would have fought for
her, even though he pretended to make a joke of her.

"Boots sure goes some. You see what you may be letting yourself in
for, Brad," he scoffed good