rail was clearly defined, and there were places where it ran over
broad levels of grass where he presented a good target to men who might
be eager to send a shot at him. There were other spots where the trail
led into timber clumps and through tangles of brush where an ambuscade
might be planned in perfect safety by an enemy; and there were the
bastioned cliffs that towered above the trail at intervals, offering
admirable hinding-places for any man with hostile intentions.

Harlan, however, rode steadily, outwardly unconcerned; inwardly convinced
that no attempt would be made to ambush him. For Haydon has passed that
way on his return to the Star, and Harlan had no doubt that since the
incident of the smile and the wink, Haydon had passed word that he was
not to be molested.

Haydon would be curious--as he had been curious at the Rancho Seco--to
learn the significance of the smile and the wink. Haydon would want to
discover just how much Harlan knew about the murder of Lane Morgan; and
he would want to know what Harlan knew of the gold that Morgan had
secreted. And so Harlan rode on, watching the country through which he
passed, but feeling assured there would be no shot to greet him from one
of the many natural vantage-points he encountered.

He rode for an hour, not making very good time, for it was a new trail,
and he was examining the country intently as he passed, fixing it in his
memory for future convenience, perhaps--no one ever knew just when it
might be necessary to use one's knowledge--when he reached a low ridge
which crossed the valley.

Here he halted Purgatory and gazed about him.

Before him stretched a green grass level, about two miles long, running
the entire width of the valley. It was dotted with mesquite, sage, and
here and there the thorny blade of a cactus rose. Some cattle were
grazing on the level; they were several miles south, and he could see
some horsemen near them.

He decided he must be close to the Star; and he urged Purgatory on again,
down upon the level, toward some timber that grew at the farther edge of
the level. Just as he slipped down the slope of the ridge, he saw, far
ahead of him, the horseman he had seen when he had entered the valley.
The horseman was on the crest of a bald hill--low, and small--but Harlan
caught a glimpse of him as he crossed it, riding fast.

Harlan smiled again, and rode on his way, resuming his scrutiny of the
country.

The valley was mighty, ma