t swiftly, and presently her father came out. Kate did not return.

Luck looked straight at Cass with the uncompromising hostility so
characteristic of him. Neither of the men spoke. It was Bob who made the
necessary explanations. The sheepman heard them with a polite derision
that suggested an impersonal amusement at the situation.

"I've been looking for you," Luck said bluntly, after his nephew had
finished.

"So I gathered from young Jesse James. He intimated it over the long blue
barrel of his cannon. Anything particular, or just a pleasant social
call?"

"You're in bad on this W. & S. robbery. I reckoned you would be safer in
jail till it's cleared up."

"You still sheriff, Mr. Cullison? Somehow I had got a notion you had quit
the job."

"I'm an interested party. There's new evidence, not manufactured,
either."

"Well, well!"

"We'll take the stage into town and see what O'Connor says--that is, if
you've got time to go." Luck could be as formal in his sarcasm as his
neighbor.

"With such good company on the way I'll have to make time."

The stage did not usually leave till about half past one. Presently Kate
announced dinner. A little awkwardly Luck invited the sheepman to join
them. Fendrick declined. He was a Fletcherite, he informed Cullison
ironically, and was in the habit of missing meals occasionally. This would
be one of the times.

His host hung in the doorway. Seldom at a loss to express himself, he did
not quite know how to put into words what he was thinking. His enemy
understood.

"That's all right. You've satisfied the demands of hospitality. Go eat
your dinner. I'll be right here on the porch when you get through."

Kate, who was standing beside her father, spoke quietly.

"There's a place for you, Mr. Fendrick. We should be very pleased to have
you join us. People who happen to be at the Circle C at dinner time are
expected to eat here."

"Come and eat, man. You'll be under no obligations. I reckon you can hate
us, just as thorough after a square meal as before. Besides, I was your
guest for several days."

Fendrick looked at the young mistress of the ranch. He meant to decline
once more, but unaccountably found himself accepting instead. Something in
her face told him she would rather have it so.

Wherefore Cass found himself with his feet under the table of his foe
discussing various topics that had nothing to do with sheep, homestead
claims, abductions, or express robberies