on is like this--and I'm not trying
to rope you in on anything, as you say, so you needn't look
suspicious. My father has become so discouraged with the way things
are going that he has given the entire Dos S Ranch to me--if I can
manage it. Now I know that you both have quit because you don't
approve of my father's orders about the sheep. I don't know what your
plans are but I want to get a new superintendent, and that's where I
need your assistance, Mr. Creede."

She paused long enough to bestow a confiding smile upon the _rodeo_
boss, and then hurried on to explain her position.

"Of course you understand how it is with father. He has been a judge,
and it wouldn't do for a man in his position to break the laws. But I
want you two men to tell me before you go just what you think I ought
to do to save my cattle, and you can say whatever you please. Mr.
Creede, if you were a woman and owned the Dos S outfit, what would you
do about the sheep?"

For a minute Creede sat silent, surveying the little lady from beneath
his shaggy hair.

"Well," he said judicially, "I think I'd do one of two things: I'd
either marry some nice kind man whose judgment I could trust, and turn
the job over to him,"--he glanced sideways at Hardy as he spoke,--"or
I'd hire some real mean, plug-ugly feller to wade in and clean 'em
out. Failin' in that, I think I'd turn the whole outfit over to Rufe
here and go away and fergit about it."

He added these last words with a frank directness which left no doubt
as to his own convictions in the matter, and Lucy turned an inquiring
eye upon Hardy. He was busily engaged in pounding a hole in the ground
with a rock, and Lucy noted for the first time a trace of silver in
his hair. The setting sun cast deep shadows in the set lines of his
face and when he finally looked up his eyes were bloodshot and
haggard.

"There's no use in talking to me about that job," he said morosely.
"I've got tired of taking orders from a man that doesn't know what
he's talking about, and I want to use my own judgment for a while. We
won't let anything happen to your cattle, Miss Lucy, and I thank you
very much, but I'm afraid I can't do it."

He stopped, and bowed his head, hammering moodily away at his hole in
the rocky ground.

"Excuse me a minute, Miss Ware," said Creede, rising to his feet as
the silence became oppressive. "Come over here, Rufe, I want to talk
with you."

They stood with their heads together, Jeff