s."

"Sho! Your big eyes are shouting it."

"Was that the news from the horse ranch?"

"That's part of it, but there is more. Sam and Curly are on their way to
Saguache to spend the Fourth of July. Sam is going for another reason, but
I'm not sure yet what it is."

"You mean----?"

"There's something doing I don't _savez_, some big deal on foot that's not
on the level. Sam is in it up to the hocks. To throw me off the scent they
fixed up a quarrel among them. Sam is supposed to be quitting Soapy's
outfit for good. But I know better."

White to the lips, she faced him bravely. "What sort of trouble is he
leading Sam into?"

"I've got a kind of a notion. But it won't bear talking about yet. Don't
you worry, little girl. I'm going to stand by Sam. And don't tell him what
I've told you, unless you want to spoil my chance of helping him."

"I won't," she promised; then added, with quick eagerness: "Maybe I can
help you. I'm going down to Saguache to visit on the fourth. I'm to be
there two weeks."

"I'll look you up. Trouble is that Sam is hell bent on ruining himself.
Seems to think Soapy is his best friend. If we could show him different
things might work out all right."

While she climbed the hill to Sam, Curly watered his horse and smoked a
cigarette. He was not hired to chaperone lovers. Therefore, it took him
three-quarters of an hour to reach the scrub pine belt on the edge of the
park.

At once he saw that they had been having a quarrel. The girl's eyes were
red, and she was still dabbing at them with her handkerchief when he came
whistling along. Sam looked discouraged, but stubborn. Very plainly they
had been disagreeing about his line of conduct.

The two young men took the trail again. The moroseness of Sam was real and
not affected this time. He had flared up because the girl could not let
him alone about his friendship for Soapy Stone. In his heart the boy knew
he was wrong, that he was moving fast in the wrong direction. But his
pride would neither let him confess it or go back on his word to the men
with whom he had been living.

About noon the next day they reached Saguache. After they had eaten, Curly
strolled off by himself to the depot.

"Gimme a ticket to Tin Cup for this evening. I want to go by the express,"
he told the agent.

The man looked at him and grinned. "I saw you at Mesa in the bucking
broncho doings last year, didn't I?"

"Maybe you did and maybe you didn't. Why?"

"Yo