of Charlton's friendship.

"Good enough. Then I reckon we better light out for camp with the glad
news that Beulah has been found. You can tell me all about it on the
way," the hillman suggested.

Beulah dropped from her horse ten minutes later into the arms of Ned
Rutherford. Quite unexpectedly to himself, that young man found
himself filled with emotion. He caught his sister in his arms and held
her as if he never intended to let the sobbing girl go. His own voice
was not at all steady.

"Boots--Boots . . . Honey-bug . . . Where you-all been?" he asked,
choking up suddenly.

Chapter XXVIII

Pat Ryan Evens an Old Score

Dingwell, the coffee-pot in one hand and a tin cup in the other, hailed
his partner cheerfully. "Come over here, son, and tell me who you
traded yore boots to."

"You and Brad been taking a mud bath, Mr. Beaudry?" asked one of the
Lazy Double D riders.

Roy told them, with reservations, the story of the past twenty-four
hours. Dave listened, an indifferent manner covering a quick interest.
His young friend had done for himself a good stroke of business. There
could no longer be any question of the attitude of the Rutherfords
toward him, since he had been of so great service to Beulah. Charlton
had renounced his enmity, the ground cut from beneath his feet. Word
had reached camp only an hour before of the death of Tighe. This left
of Beaudry's foes only Hart, who did not really count, and Dan Meldrum,
at the present moment facing starvation in a prospect hole. On the
whole, it had been a surprisingly good twenty-four hours for Roy. His
partner saw this, though he did not know the best thing Roy had won out
of it.

"Listens fine," the old-timer commented when the young man had finished.

"Can you rustle me a pair of boots from one of the boys, Dave? Size
number eight. I've got to run back up Del Oro to-day."

"Better let me go, son," Dave proposed casually.

"No. It's my job to turn the fellow loose."

"Well, see he doesn't get the drop on you. I wouldn't trust him far as
I could throw a bull by the tail."

Dingwell departed to borrow the boots and young Rutherford came over to
Beaudry. Out of the corner of his eye Roy observed that Beulah was
talking with the little Irish puncher, Pat Ryan.

Rutherford plunged awkwardly into his thanks. His sister had made only
a partial confidant of him, but he knew that she was under obligations
to Beaudry for the rescue