than the Diamond
H!"

Masten's lips curled. Her reference to the Diamond H recalled unpleasant
memories.

"A nester," he said, and then added after a pause--"and his daughter.
Only two miles from here, across the river. There's a trail, through a
break in the canyon, leading to their ranch on the other side of the
river. The man's name is Catherson--Abe Catherson. Chavis tells me he was
something of a bother to your uncle, because of his propensity to steal
Flying W cattle. He's an old savage."

"And the daughter?" inquired Ruth, her eyes alight with interest.

"Half wild, bare-footed, ragged. She's pretty, though."

"How old is she, Willard?"

"A mere child. Fifteen, I should judge."

"I shall visit them tomorrow," declared Ruth.

"Sakes alive! Half wild? I should think she would be--living in that
wilderness!" said Aunt Martha, looking up from her knitting, over the
tops of her glasses.

"Everything is wild in this country," said Masten, a slight sneer in his
voice. "The people are repulsive, in dress, manner, and speech." He
delicately flecked some cigar ash from a coat sleeve.

Uncle Jepson wrinkled his nose belligerently. He sniffed in eloquent
preparation for speech, but Aunt Martha averted the imminent clash by
saying sharply:

"Jep, you hop in there and get that ball of yarn off the dining-room
table!"

So potent is habit that Uncle Jepson started to obey automatically, Ruth
interjected a word, speaking to Masten, and Uncle Jepson's opportunity
was lost.

Silence reigned again until Ruth, who was facing the Calamity Trail,
suddenly exclaimed:

"Some one is coming!"

During the silence she had again been thinking of Rex Randerson, and
seeing the figure on the trail she had leaped to the conclusion that it
was he. Her face had flushed. Masten noticed it, for he looked narrowly
at her and, though he said nothing, there was that in his eyes which told
he had divined what was in her mind.

It was not Randerson, however, but Vickers, who was coming. They all
recognized him when he came closer, and they watched him with that
peculiar concertedness which seizes upon an expectant company, until he
dismounted at the corral gates and came toward them.

Plainly there was something on Vickers' mind, for he smiled mechanically
as he stepped upon the porch and looked at them.

"Well, I'm back," he said. He looked at Ruth. "There's somethin' I'd like
to say to you. It's business. If you'd rather hear i