gly.

He stood for an instant longer, debating the situation. Then he
crossed the floor, closed the dining-room door, fastened it securely
and recrossing to the outside door stepped down from the porch and
sought his pony. Ten minutes later he carried the saddle in, threw it
on the floor, folded the saddle blanket and placed it on the sofa,
closed the outside door, opened the window, snuffed out the candle,
stretched himself out on the sofa and went to sleep.

CHAPTER V

THE FIRST LESSON

Shortly after daybreak the following morning Calumet turned over on his
back, stretched lazily and opened his eyes. When a recollection of the
events of the previous night forced themselves into his consciousness
he scowled and sat erect, listening. From beyond the closed
dining-room door came sundry sounds which told him that the Claytons
were already astir. He heard the rattle of dishes, and the appetizing
aroma of fried bacon filtered through the crevices in the battered door
and assailed his nostrils.

He scowled again as he rose and stood looking down at his saddle. When
beginning his homeward journey he had supplied himself with soda
biscuit and jerked beef, but he had consumed the last of his food at
noon the day before and the scent of the frying bacon aroused him to
the realization that he was ravenously hungry. As he meditated upon
the situation the scowl on his face changed to an appreciative grin.
Now that he had decided to stay here he did not purpose to go hungry
when there was food around.

Shouldering his saddle he left the office and proceeded to the stable,
in which he had placed his pony the night before. He fed the animal
from a pitiful supply of grain in a bin, and after slamming the door of
the stable viciously, sneering at it as it resisted, he stalked to the
ranchhouse.

There was a tin basin on a bench just outside the kitchen door. He
poured it half full of water from a pail that sat on the porch floor,
and washed his hands and face, noting, while engaged in his task, a
clean towel hanging from a roller on the wall of the ranchhouse. While
drying his face he heard voices from within, subdued, anxious.
Completing his ablutions he stepped to the screen door, threw it open
and stood on the threshold.

In the center of the kitchen stood a table covered with a white cloth
on which were dishes filled with food from which arose promising odors.
Beside a window in the opposite wall of the ki