ngaged--some of them in the corral; others
in the stable, and still others in the blacksmith-shop--all attending to
their new duties--and only Red Linton was at the corral gate to greet
Harlan.

Triumph was in Harlan's eyes as he grinned at Linton.

"I'm a Simon-pure outlaw now, Red," he stated. "Haydon didn't hesitate
none. He's a sneakin', schemin' devil, an' he hates me like poison. But
he took me in, reckonin' to play me for a sucker. Looks like things might
be interestin'." He grinned. "I'm yearnin' for grub, Red."

Later, while Harlan was seated at a table in the cook shanty, he became
aware of a shadow at the door; and he wheeled, to see Barbara Morgan
looking in at him, her face flushed, a glow in her eyes that was entirely
comprehensible to Harlan.

She was glad he had returned--any man with half Harlan's wisdom could
have told that! And color of a kind not caused by the wind and sun
suffused Harlan's face.

She had seen him from one of the kitchen windows, and curiosity--and an
impatience that would not permit of delay--had brought her to search for
him.

"Why," she said, "I--I thought--didn't you say that you were going away?"

"Didn't I go?" he grinned.

"For a day," she taunted, her voice leaping.

"A day," he said gravely; "why, it was longer than that, wasn't it? Seems
that I ain't seen you for years an' years!"

He got up, his hunger forgotten. But when he reached the door he saw her
running toward the ranchhouse, not even looking back. He stood watching
her until she opened a door and vanished. Then he grinned and returned to
his neglected food, saying aloud, after the manner of men who spend much
time in open places: "I'll sure take care of her, Morgan."

CHAPTER XX

LEFT-HANDED

Harlan's statement to Haydon, to the effect that he had visited the camps
of Kelso, Rance, Larkin, and other outlaws had been strictly accurate. At
one time or another each of those outlaw leaders had sent for Harlan, to
endeavor to prevail upon him to cast his lot with them--so common was the
report that Harlan was of their type.

And he had been able--as he had told Haydon--to go among them with
impunity--unmolested, respected. And even after he had refused to join
they had extended him the courtesy of faith--not even swearing him to
secrecy. And he had vindicated their faith by keeping silent regarding
them.

Knowing, however, that the ethics of men of the type of Kelso, Rance,
Larkin, and others