ly changed. In this brief
conversation he had classified Drazk, and classified him correctly. "You
catchee him, though--some hell, too--you stickee lound here. Beat it,"
and Drazk found the kitchen door closed in his face.

Drazk wandered slowly around the side of the house, and was not above
a surreptitious glance through the windows. They revealed nothing. He
followed a path out by a little gate. His ruse had proven a blind trail,
and there was nothing to do but go down to the stables, take the horse
blanket from the peg where he had hung it, and set out again for the
South Y.D.

As he turned a corner of the fence the sight of a young woman burst upon
him. She was hatless and facing the sun. Drazk, for all his admiration
of the sex, had little eye for detail. "A sort of chestnut, about
sixteen hands high, and with the look of a thoroughbred," he afterwards
described her to Linder.

She turned at the sound of his footsteps, and Drazk instantly summoned a
smirk which set his homely face beaming with good humor.

"Pardon me, ma'am," he said, with an elaborate bow. "I am Mr. Drazk--Mr.
George Drazk--Mr. Transley's assistant. No doubt he spoke of me."

She was inside the enclosure formed by the fence, and he outside. She
turned on him eyes which set Drazk's pulses strangely a-tingle, and
subjected him to a deliberate but not unfriendly inspection.

"No, I don't believe he did," she said at length. Drazk cautiously
approached, as though wondering how near he could come without
frightening her away. He reached the fence and leaned his elbows on it.
She showed no disposition to move. He cautiously raised one foot and
rested it on the lower rail.

"It's a fine morning, ma'am," he ventured.

"Rather," she replied. "Why aren't you with Mr. Transley's gang?"

The question gave George an opening. "Well, you see," he said, "it's all
on account of that Pete-horse. That's him down there. I rode away this
morning and plumb forgot his blanket. So when Mr. Transley seen it he
says, 'Drazk, take the day off an' go back for your blanket,' he says.
'There's no hurry,' he says. 'Linder an' me'll manage,' he says."

"Oh!"

"So here I am." He glanced at her again. She was showing no disposition
to run away. She was about two yards from him, along the fence. Drazk
wondered how long it would take him to bridge that distance. Even as he
looked she leaned her elbows on the fence and rested one of her feet on
the lower rail. Drazk fan