"They say the men are making a pretty good thing out of
that."

Slowly Ruth shook her head, knowing that Jim, who was the most gentle of
men and the most yielding in little things, was like adamant once his
mind was made up.

"I don't know what there is between you and Mr. Colter," Ruth answered
hurriedly, "but I'm sure I could not make him change his opinion of you
even if I wished to try. Do, do go away from here."

"I won't," the man replied. "You've got to hear something first." Ruth
made a movement, but he caught at her skirts. "I'm all-fired tired of
this man Colter's being so hard on me and having all the people around
here treat him like a tin god. I am not living under an assumed name and
he is. I have never done anything to make me proud of being called Joe
Dawson, but I don't have to hide it. Colter!" Joe Dawson laughed. "Your
friend is no more named Colter than I am. His name is Carter, John
Carter, and he hails from Virginia the same as I do. Colter was a pretty
good name to select when he came west, since a man named Colter happened
to be one of the first settlers in Wyoming."

"Be quiet and let me go, Mr. Dawson!" Ruth commanded, white with anger.
"Of course you understand I don't believe a word you have said, but you
sha'n't force me to listen to your slander."

"Oh, don't take my word for it," Dawson sneered. "Ask Carter if he
didn't run away from home because he stole a lot of money and broke his
mother's and father's hearts. The Carters are a proud lot and not
forgiving, and I expect they weren't sorry to have him change his name
to Colter. He and I were school-fellows together, and we have never been
friendly."

The man let go of her skirts, and Ruth ran back toward the rancho while
he walked off in the other direction. There could not be a word of truth
in what he had told her, yet the girl felt sick and trembling and dared
not go in where her friends could see her. Crying softly, Ruth dropped
down in the grass by the side of the road. Suddenly it occurred to her
that Jim had never told her one word of his past history and that the
ranch girls knew nothing of him before his coming to Wyoming; yet she
had confided every detail of her own narrow story to him, her school
days in Vermont and the teaching afterward, and then there was nothing
else until she came out west to him.

A horse trotted along the road and shied at the white figure in the
grass.

"Ruth, is anything the matter?" Jim aske