he had ridden away after
telling her that he would leave the Flying W--riding into the darkness of
the plains, with his hopes blasted, bravely making no complaint.

She got her pony, after a while, and rode far and long, coming in to the
ranchhouse about noon. After she had turned the pony into the corral and
was coming toward the house, she saw Uncle Jepson sitting on the porch,
puffing furiously at his pipe. She spoke to him in greeting, and was
about to pass him to go into the house, when he called to her:

"I want to talk to you a minute, Ruth." He spoke rapidly, his voice dry
and light, and she could see his facial muscles twitching. Wonderingly,
she sank into a chair near him.

"You're sure thinkin' of marryin' Masten, girl?" he said.

"Yes," she declared firmly.

"Well, then I've got to tell you," said Uncle Jepson decisively. "I've
been puttin' it off, hopin' that you'd get shet of that imp of Satan, an'
I wouldn't have to say anything."

"Uncle Jep!" she protested indignantly.

"That's just what he is, Ruth--a durned imp of the devil. I've knowed it
from the first day I saw him. Since he's come out here, he's proved it."
He swung his chair around and faced her, and forgetting his pipe in his
excitement, he told her the story he had told Randerson: how he had gone
into the messhouse on the day of the killing of Pickett, for a rest and a
smoke, and how, while in there he had overheard Chavis and Pickett
plotting against Randerson, planning Pickett's attack on her, mentioning
Masten's connection with the scheme. She did not open her lips until
Uncle Jepson had concluded, and then she murmured a low "Oh!" and sat
rigid, gripping the arms of her chair.

"An' that ain't all, it ain't half of it!" pursued Uncle Jepson
vindictively. "Do you know that Masten set that Watt Kelso, the
gunfighter, on Randerson?" He looked at Ruth, saw her start and draw a
long breath, and he grinned triumphantly. "Course you don't know; I
cal'late Randerson would never make a peep about it. He's all man--that
feller. But it's a fact. Blair told me. There'd been bad blood between
Randerson an' Kelso, an' Masten took advantage of it. He paid Kelso five
hundred dollars in cold cash to kill Randerson!"

"Oh, it can't be!" moaned the girl, covering her face with her hands and
shrinking into her chair.

"Shucks!" said Uncle Jepson derisively, but more gently now, for he saw
that the girl was badly hurt. "The whole country is talkin'