in the great battle still standing in its place,
and past the saloon, the hitching-rack empty before it, for this was the
round-up season--nobody was in town.

"There's that slab-sided, spider-legged Alta Wood standin' out on the
porch," said Taterleg disgustedly, falling behind Lambert, reining
around on the other side to put him between the lady and himself.

"You'd better stop and bid her good-bye," Lambert suggested.

Taterleg pulled his hat over his eyes to shut out the sight of her,
turned his head, ignoring her greeting. When they were safely past he
cast a cautious look behind.

"I guess that settled _her_ hash!" he said. "Yes, and I'd like to wad a
handful of chewin' gum in them old bangs before I leave this man's
town!"

"You've broken her chance for a happy married life with Jedlick,
Taterleg. Your heart's as hard as a bone."

"The worst luck I can wish her is that Jedlick'll come back," he said,
turning to look at her as he spoke. Alta waved her hand.

"She's a forgivin' little soul, anyway," Lambert said.

"Forgivin'! 'Don't hurt him, Mr. Jedlick,' she says, 'don't hurt him!'
Huh! I had to build a fire under that old gun of mine to melt the
chawin' wax off of her. I wouldn't give that girl a job washin' dishes
in the oyster parlor if she was to travel from here to Wyoming on her
knees."

So they arrived at the ranch from their last expedition together.
Lambert gave Taterleg his horse to take to the barn, while he stopped in
to deliver Pat Sullivan's check to Vesta and straighten up the final
business, and tell her good-bye.

CHAPTER XXVII

EMOLUMENTS AND REWARDS

Lambert took off his hat at the door and smoothed his hair with his
palm, tightened up his necktie, looked himself over from chest to toes.
He drew a deep breath then, like a man fortifying himself for a trial
that called for the best that was in him to come forward. He knocked on
the door.

He was wearing a brown duck coat with a sheepskin collar, the wool of
which had been dyed a mottled saffron, and corduroy breeches as roomy of
leg as Taterleg's state pair. These were laced within the tall boots
which he had bought in Chicago, and in which he took a singular pride on
account of their novelty on the range.

It was not a very handsome outfit, but there was a rugged
picturesqueness in it that the pistol belt and chafed scabbard enhanced,
and he carried it like a man who was not ashamed of it, and graced it
by the worth t