should logically be. Of course I share your regret at losing so
valuable an employe; but assuredly I am not responsible for it in any
way."

Then she swept out haughtily to the entertainment of her guest, leaving
him standing there furious and altogether unconvinced. He went over to
the bunkhouse to interrogate McVey, but could get no enlightenment from
that taciturn individual, who really knew nothing of Douglass's motives.
So the next morning he made a virtue of necessity and offered the
position to Red, who accepted it without comment, merely observing:
"I'll try to please yuh."

On leaving her brother, Grace went straight to Mrs. Brevoort with no
little embarrassment in her manner. She realized now that both she and
Robert had talked a great deal about their recalcitrant manager and she
was at a loss how to explain the anomalous situation. But she went the
best possible way about it, straight to the point.

"I am afraid that your proposed conquest of all the cowboys on the ranch
will have to be deferred in at least one particular instance, Connie,"
she said with a fine attempt at humorous condolence; "the most eligible
one, our manager, Mr. Douglass, having severed his connection with the C
Bar, so Bobbie informs me. I am genuinely sorry, for he was 'the noblest
Roman of them all'!"

It was cleverly done; so cleverly, in fact, that Constance Brevoort was
completely nonplused, astute as she was. Long ago she had arrived at a
conclusion not borne out by the seeming indifference of her hostess, who
was placidly smiling at the regal beauty in the cozy armchair before the
cheerful pinon fire. Under the cover of a pretended pout she watched
Grace sharply.

"I have not learned the particulars yet," continued Grace airily, "but I
rather suspect that he got forewarned somehow and has beaten a masterly
retreat while yet in possession of all his faculties. Seriously, dear, I
am sorry that you did not meet him; he is a very attractive man and a
forceful one. I am dubious of the outcome of a passage between you and
him, despite your proficiency in the gentle game of hearts." She was
laughing quite naturally now, if a little bitterly; there is much said
in jest that is meant in earnest.

Constance somehow detected the false note but gave no sign. She looked
up languidly. "Really, I am getting interested. Maybe it is only a
pleasure deferred. Is he handsome, this Sir Galahad of yours?" There was
a covert malice in the quest