sees it--Ever seen the sunset color on
Sangre de Cristo? No? That's a pity, Miss. Indeed, that's a pity. But
you're f'm Noo York, you said."

He paused again, and Marion began to realize the full degree of her
provinciality and ignorance. She was from New York. What a pity!

"Well," said the cowboy, as if resolved to do the best he could in the
circumstances, "sometimes--maybe three or four times a year--it's
weird. It's religious. The white peaks turn red as blood--that's why
they're called Sangre de Cristo. It's Spanish for Blood of Christ. It
makes you feel queer-like"--He paused a moment thoughtfully, watching
the golden horse as it stepped quietly, lightly, with head high, just
ahead of them. "The red comes onto Sangre de Cristo, an' Brinker sees
it. He looks at the blood on the peaks, an' then at the gold horse
lyin' there all torn an' dirty, an' this is what Brinker does, an'
maybe he couldn't help it. He ups an' cuts the ropes, an' Sunnysides's
off to his waitin' bunch, an' they all go snortin' down the valley."

There was a touch of awe in the man's voice, and Marion felt a little
of it too. She looked toward the serrated barrier of mountains, in the
very middle of which stood old Thunder under his pall of cloud. Beyond
lay San Luis--Sangre de Cristo--and what romance! Would she ever--Her
eyes rested for a moment on the black pile that now, as always,
fascinated and yet disturbed her.

"And you?" she said at length, turning to the cowboy.

"There wasn't no red sunset this time," the man answered, with a grim
smile. "But we ain't slep' since," he added, with a return of
weariness.

"You caught him?" she asked admiringly.

"Us three."

"But what are you doing with him here?"

"He's sold, if we c'n find the man't offered a thousand for him a year
ago."

"Who was he?"

But she knew already. Some swift flash of intuition told her there was
but one man in Paradise Park who--

"His name's Haig, an' he's--"

"Philip Haig!" she murmured.

"You know him?"

"Yes--no. That is, I've heard of him."

It was on her lips,--the explanation that the men had passed the
branch road leading to Haig's ranch, that they were now riding away
from it. But she hesitated. And why? She did not know then; but an
hour later she would be reproaching herself bitterly for that moment's
indecision. The words were almost spoken, but something checked them;
and before she could make up her mind to follow her first natural
imp