enially--and answered Harlan's affirmative
nod with:

"Well, Haydon is expectin' you. You c'n let your paws down--takin' a heap
of care not to go to foolin' with your guns. I ain't takin' them; Haydon
didn't say anything about it. You're ridin' that trail that forks off to
the left."

Harlan lowered his hands, resting them on the pommel of his saddle, and
rode on, taking, as advised, a narrow trail that diverged from the other
a short distance from where he had met the man. As he struck the other
trail he heard the man coming behind him--on a horse.

There were no further words. Harlan kept to the trail, riding slowly; the
man behind him following at a short distance.

In this manner they rode for perhaps a mile. Then the timber grew sparse,
and Purgatory and his rider at last emerged upon a level that extended
about a hundred feet and then sloped down abruptly to another level,
through which flowed a narrow stream of water, shallow and clear.

Close to the bank of the stream was an adobe ranchhouse, and surrounding
it were several other buildings. At a slight distance from the house was
a corral in which were several horses. In front of a bunkhouse were
several men who, when they saw Harlan and the other man coming, faced
toward them and stood, motionless, watching.

The men maintained silence as Harlan rode to the ranchhouse and sat in
the saddle, awaiting the pleasure of his escort. He saw the latter grin
at the other men as he passed them; and he grinned at Harlan as he
brought his horse to a halt near Purgatory and dismounted.

"I reckon you're to git off an' visit," he said; "Haydon is inside." As
he dismounted and trailed the reins over the head of his beast he cast a
sharp, critical eye over Purgatory.

"There's a heap of hoss in that black, eh?"

"Plenty." Harlan got down and ran a hand over Purgatory's neck, while
trailing the reins over his head. "Man-killer," he warned. "Don't touch
him. He ain't been rode by nobody but me, an' he won't stand for nobody
foolin' around him."

Harlan had raised his voice until he was sure the men in front of the
bunkhouse heard him; then he grinned genially at them all and followed
the black-bearded man into the ranchhouse.

An instant later, in a big room which had the appearance of an office,
Harlan was confronting Haydon.

The latter was sitting in a chair at a desk, and when Harlan entered
Haydon got up and grinned at him, shallowly, without mirth.

"So you