th an additional half hitch; when he was sure of her he flung
himself from the saddle, still keeping the rope in his hand as he took
her into his arms. Then, swimming as best he could, seeking to keep her
head and his above the water, he left the rest to a certain rangy,
yellow-sorrel saddle horse. And as Hap Smith and his struggling team
made shore just below the ford, Buck Thornton and Winifred Waverly were
drawn to safety by Buck Thornton's horse.

Just as there had been no spoken thanks last night for a kindness
rendered, so now on this larger occasion there was no gush of grateful
words. He released her slowly and their eyes met. As he turned to help
Hap Smith with the frightened horses entangled in their harness, the
only words were his:

"A couple of miles farther on you'll pass a ranch house. You can get
warm and dry your clothes there. This is the last bad crossing."

And so, lifting his hat, he left her.

CHAPTER V

THE MAN FROM POISON HOLE RANCH

Dry Town never looked less dry. As Buck Thornton drew rein in front of
the one brick building of which the ugly little village could boast, the
mud was above his yellow-sorrel's fetlocks. But the rain was over, the
sun was out glorious and warm above the level lands and in the air was a
miraculous feeling as of spring. It is the way of Dry Town in the matter
of seasons to rival in abruptness its denizens' ways in other matters.
The last great storm had come and gone and seeds would be bursting on
every hand and eagerly now.

Because he loved a good horse, and this rangy sorrel above others, and
because further he had been forced to ride the willing animal unusually
hard all day yesterday, Thornton today had travelled slowly. So, long
ago, he had watched the stage out of sight and now, when finally he drew
up in front of the bank, he saw Hap Smith's lumbering vehicle standing
down by the stable. From it he let his eyes travel along the double row
of ill kept, unpainted houses. Fifty yards away a stranger would have
marked only his great height, the lean, clean, powerful physique. But
from near by one might have forgotten this matter of physical bigness
for another, noting just the man's eyes alone. Very keen, piercing,
quick eyes just now, watchful and suspicious of every corner and alley,
they more than hinted at a stern vigilance that was more than half
positive expectancy.

Only for a moment he sat so. Then he swung down from the saddle and with
s