g within him had called--or
was calling--a halt. He told himself that it was because he had a
curiosity to follow this strange, freakish plan of Betty's to the end.

Some other emotion was calling just as strongly for him to do with the
money as he had always done with money. And so indecision afflicted
him. Humor likewise. He rarely felt in this mood. Not for years had
he felt like laughing. Was he the Calumet Marston who, a week before,
had set out on his homeward journey filled with bitterness--looking for
trouble? Had he been at the Lazy Y a day or a year? It was a day--two
days--but it seemed more like the longer time. At least the time had
wrought a change in him. It was ludicrous, farcical. In spite of his
treatment of Betty she had faith in him! Wasn't that just like a
woman? There was nothing logical in her. She had taken him on trust.
The whole business was in the nature of a comedy and suddenly yielding
to his feelings he straightened in the saddle and laughed uproariously.

He did not laugh long, and when he sobered down and with an effort
brought his mind back to the present, he became aware of the Red Dog,
saw a young cowpuncher seated on the board sidewalk in front of the
building, his back resting against it, laughing in sympathy with him.

Calumet was disconcerted for a moment. His eyes narrowed truculently.
But then, as the oddness of the situation struck him he laughed again.
But this time as he laughed he took stock of the young cowpuncher, who
was again laughing with him.

The puncher was young--very young; not more than twenty-one or two.
There was a week's growth of beard on his face. A saddle reposed by
his side. In spite of his laughter something about him spoke
eloquently of trouble. Calumet felt a sudden interest in him. Any man
who could laugh when the world was not doing well with him must be made
of good stuff. But Calumet's interest was cynical and it brought a
sneer to his lips as he ceased laughing and sat loosely in the saddle
regarding the puncher.

"I reckon you ain't got no objections to tellin' me what you're
laughin' at?" he said coldly.

"Mebbe you'd put me wise to the same thing," said the other. "I'm
settin' here, puttin' in a heap of my time tryin' to figger out who got
the most of the six months' wages which I had with me when I struck
town yesterday--an' not makin' a hell of a lot of progress--when you
mosey up here an' begin to laugh your fool head