and
figure, until at last the amorous cowpunchers were frankly divided as to
the supremacy of the two women's respective charms. Red, alone, had no
indecision, either in thought or strenuous expression on that point.

"Thu black ain't in thu runnin' with thu bay; an' she ain't in her
class, nuther," had been his unequivocal opinion when approached on that
topic. "Thu one's good enough to put yuh wad on fer a quick spurt, but
yuh kin trus' yuah life on thu otheh. Thu filly fer me, every time." But
then Red was in love, and that always has a strongly modifying influence
on one's convictions. That he was nearly alone in his judgment may be
ascribed to the difference of tastes. And it may be stated as a curious
coincidence that most of the cowpunchers were blondes.

Not a word had been heard from Douglass since his departure and he had
actually passed out of the mind of Mrs. Brevoort altogether. When their
paths did finally cross, however, it was under conditions that stamped
him indelibly upon her mind and soul both.

She and Grace had ridden over to Tin Cup in the cool of the morning,
spending the day with Mrs. Blount. They had, on their return, essayed a
short cut through William's pasture field, with the intention of thereby
shortening the distance and evading the dust which hung in big yellow
clouds above a herd of cattle being driven up the county road.

In the field adjoining Grace saw, with an instantaneous recognition
which sent the color from her cheeks, a rider engaged in corralling a
pair of dusty pack-horses whose appearance betokened a long day's
plodding. There could be no mistaking that erect, lithe figure, or the
long, rangy "strawberry roan" he was so gracefully bestriding, and her
heart leaped at sight of him. Constance, following the direction of her
gaze, asked quickly:

"Who is that? What a superb seat he has!"

Even as her lips opened in reply, Grace saw Mrs. Brevoort's horse give a
frantic kick at something entangling his legs, then leap affrightedly
from side to side, while his rider screamed in terror. As he plunged
again Grace screamed in unison as she realized her companion's peril;
she never knew that at that moment of supreme dread she had
instinctively cried out the name of the rider in the next field,
conscious only of that terrible strand of barbed wire which was goading
Constance's horse to frenzy. It was a thing of all too common occurrence
in this land of wire fences; a loosely-coil