on't find all the T Down boys yearnin' to bust into this ruckus,"
Harlan said as he stood near Linton's horse as Linton grinned down at
him; "but there'll be some. Put it right up to them that it ain't goin'
to be no pussy-kitten job, an' that it's likely some of them won't ever
see the T Down again. But to offset that, you can tell 'em that if we
make good, the Rancho Seco will owe them a heap--an' they'll get what's
comin' to them."

He watched while Linton rode eastward over the big level; then he grinned
and walked to the ranchhouse, going around the front and standing in the
wide gateway where he saw Barbara sitting on a bench in the _patio_,
staring straight ahead, meditatively, unaware that he was standing in the
gateway, watching her.

Harlan watched the girl for a long time--until she turned and saw him.
Then she blushed and stood up, looking at him in slight wonderment as he
came toward her and stood within a few feet of her.

On Harlan's face was a slow, genial grin.

"Sunnin' yourself, eh?" he said. "Well, it's a mighty nice day--not too
hot. Have you knowed him long?"

The startling irrelevance of the question caused Barbara to gaze sharply
at Harlan, and when their eyes met she noted that his were twinkling with
a light that she could not fathom. She hated him when she could not
understand him.

"Mr. Haydon, do you mean?" she questioned, a sudden coldness in her
voice.

Harlan nodded.

"A little more than a year, I think. It was just after I returned from
school, at Denver."

He watched her, saying lowly:

"So it was Denver. I'd been wonderin'. I knowed it must have been some
place. Schoolin' is a thing that I never had time to monkey with--I
reckon my folks didn't believe a heap in 'em."

"You've lived in the West all your life--you were born in the West, I
suppose?"

He looked keenly at her. "I expect you knowed that without askin'. I've
been wonderin' if it would have made any difference."

"How?"

"In me. Do you think an education makes a man act different--gives him
different ideas about his actions--in his dealin's with women, for
instance?"

"I expect it does. Education should make a man more considerate of
women--it is refining."

"Then you reckon a man that ain't had any education is coarse, an' don't
know how to treat a woman?"

"I didn't say that; I said education _should_ make a man treat women that
way."

"But it don't always?"

"I think not. I have known men--well