tlike swiftness toward the passage leading to the kitchen. When he
reached the living-room she stood there calm and casual, with quite the
air of one entering for the first time.

"Mees T'orne, she ask me see if Reek, he wan' somet'ing," she explained,
with a flash of her white teeth.

"He doesn't," returned Buck shortly, eyeing the woman intently. "If he
does, he'll ring the bell."

"Ver' good," she nodded. "I leave the door open to 'ear."

With a nod and another smile she departed, and Buck heard her moving away
along the passage. For a moment he was tempted to close and lock the door.
Then he realized that even if she dared return to her eavesdropping, he
would have ample warning by keeping an eye on the mirror, and so returned
to Bemis.

"I hate that woman," said Rick, when informed of her departure. "She's
always snoopin' around, an' so is her greaser husband. Down at the
bunk-house it's the same way, with Slim, an' Flint Kreeger an' the rest. I
tell yuh, I'm dead sick of being spied on, an' plotted against, an' never
knowin' when yuh may get a knife in the back, or stop a bullet. I hate to
leave Bud, but he's so plumb set on--"

"But what's it all about?" put in Buck impatiently. "Can't you tell a
fellow, or don't you know?"

Bemis flushed slightly at his tone. "I can tell yuh this much," he
retorted. "Tex don't want them rustlers caught. He throws a clever bluff,
an' he's pulled the wool over Miss Mary's eyes, but for all that, he's
workin' on their side. What kind of a foreman is it who'll lose over a
thousand head without stoppin' the stealin'? It ain't lack of brains,
neither; Tex has got them a-plenty."

"But Miss Thorne--" protested Stratton, half-incredulously.

"I tell yuh, he's got her buffaloed. She won't believe a word against him.
He was here in her dad's time, an' he's played his cards mighty slick
since then. She's told yuh he can't get men, mebbe? All rot, of course. He
could get plenty of hands, but he don't want 'em. What's more, he's done
his best to get rid of me an' Bud, an' would of long ago, only Miss Mary
won't let him fire us."

"But what in thunder's his object?"

"So's to have the place to himself, I reckon. He an' those greasers in the
kitchen, and the rest of the bunch, are as thick as thieves."

"You mean he'd find it easier to get away with cattle if there wasn't
anybody around to keep tabs on him?"

Bemis hesitated. "I--I'm not sure," he replied slowly. "Partly that,