and it
presently became evident that what he saw did not please him. His keen
eyes sought out sagging fence-wire where staples, drawn or fallen out, had
never been replaced. Here and there a rotting post leaned at a precarious
angle, or gates between pastures needed repairing badly. What cattle were
in sight seemed in good condition but their number was much less than he
expected. Only once did he observe any signs of human activity, and then
the loafing attitude of the two punchers riding leisurely through a field
half a mile away was but too apparent. By the time he came within sight of
the ranch-house, nestling pleasantly in a little grove of cottonwoods
beyond the creek, his face was set in a hard scowl.

"Looks to me like they were letting the whole outfit go to pot," he
muttered angrily. "It sure is time I whirled in and took a hand."

Urging the roan forward, he rode splashing through the shallow stream, up
the gentle slope, and swung out of his saddle close to the kitchen door.
This stood open, and striding up to it Buck met the languid gaze of a
swarthy middle-aged Mexican who lounged just within the portal.

"Miss Thorne around?" he asked curtly.

"Sure," shrugged the Mexican. "I t'ink she in fron' house. Yoh try aroun'
other door, mebbe fin' her."

In the old days the kitchen entrance had been the one most used, but Buck
remembered that there was another at the opposite end of the building
which opened directly into the ranch living-room. He sought it now,
observing with preoccupied surprise that a small covered veranda had been
built out from the house, found it ajar like the other, and knocked.

"Come in," said a voice.

Stratton crossed the threshold, instinctively removing his hat. As he
remembered it, the room, though of good size and comfortable enough, had
been a clutter of purely masculine belongings. He was quite unprepared for
the colorful gleam of Navajo rugs, the curtained windows, the general air
of swept and garnished tidiness which seemed almost luxury. Briefly his
sweeping glance took in a bowl of flowers on the center-table and then
came to rest abruptly on a slight, girlish figure just risen from a chair
beside it.

"I'd like to see Miss Thorne, please," he said, stifling his momentary
surprise.

The girl took a step forward, her slim, tanned, ringless fingers clasped
loosely about a book she held.

"I'm Miss Thorne," she answered in a low, pleasant voice.

Buck gasped and his