ied Jim, who seemed less stiff than
his two bunk-mates.

"I've some very old rye," interposed Wade, looking at Jim, but
apparently addressing all. "Fine stuff, but awful strong an' hot!...
Makes a fellow's blood dance."

"Go get it!" Belllounds's utterance was thick and full, as if he had
something in his mouth.

Wade looked down into the heated face, into the burning eyes; and
through the darkness of passion that brooked no interference with its
fruition he saw this youth's stark and naked soul. Wade had seen into
the depths of many such abysses.

"See hyar, Wade," broke in Jim, with his quiet force, "never mind
fetchin' thet red-hot rye to-night. Some other time, mebbe, when Jack
wants more satisfaction. Reckon we've got a drop or so left."

"All right, boys," replied Wade, "I'll be sayin' good night."

He left them playing and strode out to return to his cabin. The night
was still, cold, starlit, and black in the shadows. A lonesome coyote
barked, to be answered by a wakeful hound. Wade halted at his porch,
and lingered there a moment, peering up at the gray old peak, bare and
star-crowned.

"I'm sorry for the old man," muttered the hunter, "but I'd see Jack
Belllounds in hell before I'd let Columbine marry him."

* * * * *

October first was a holiday at White Slides Ranch. It happened to be a
glorious autumn day, with the sunlight streaming gold and amber over the
grassy slopes. Far off the purple ranges loomed hauntingly.

Wade had come down from Wilson Moore's cabin, his ears ringing with the
crippled boy's words of poignant fear.

Fox favored his master with unusually knowing gaze. There was not going
to be any lion-chasing or elk-hunting this day. Something was in the
wind. And Fox, as a privileged dog, manifested his interest and wonder.

Before noon a buckboard with team of sweating horses halted in the yard
of the ranch-house. Besides the driver it contained two women whom
Belllounds greeted as relatives, and a stranger, a pale man whose dark
garb proclaimed him a minister.

"Come right in, folks," welcomed Belllounds, with hearty excitement.

It was Wade who showed the driver where to put the horses. Strangely,
not a cowboy was in sight, an omission of duty the rancher had noted.
Wade might have informed him where they were.

The door of the big living-room stood open, and from it came the sound
of laughter and voices. Wade, who had returned to his seat on th