reading a newspaper Jack had brought with him from Mesa. At sight
of them he started up hurriedly.

"Goddlemighty, what's the matter, Jack?"

"Only a ricked ankle, Champ. Slipped on a stone," Flatray explained as he
put Melissy down on the lounge.

In two minutes the whole house was upset. Hop Ling was heating water to
bathe the sprain. A rider from the bunkhouse was saddling to go for the
doctor. Another was off in the opposite direction to buy some liniment at
Mammoth.

In the confusion Flatray ran up his horse from the pasture, slapped on the
saddle, and melted into the night.

An hour later Melissy asked her father what had become of him.

"Doggone that boy, I don't know where he went. Reckon he thought he'd be
in the way. Mighty funny he didn't give us a chanct to tell him to stay."

"Probably he had business in Mesa," Melissy answered, turning her face to
the wall.

"Business nothing," retorted the exasperated rancher. "He figured we
couldn't eat and sleep him without extra trouble. Ain't that a fine
reputation for him to be giving the Bar Double G? I'll curl his hair for
him onct I meet up with him again."

"If you would put out the light, I think I could sleep, dad," she told him
in the least of voices.

"Sure, honey. Has the throbbing gone out of the ankle?" he asked
anxiously.

"Not entirely, but it's a good deal better. Good-night, dad."

"If Doc comes I'll bring him in," Lee said after he had kissed her.

"Do, please."

But after she was left alone Melissy did not prepare herself for sleep.
Her wide open eyes stared into the darkness, while her mind stormily
reviewed the day. The man who for years had been her best friend was a
scoundrel. She had proved him unworthy of her trust, and on top of that he
had insulted her. Hot tears stung her eyes--tears of shame, of wounded
self-love, of mortification, and of something more worthy than any of
these.

She grieved passionately for that which had gone out of her life, for the
comradeship that had been so precious to her. If this man were a waddy,
who of all her friends could she trust? She could have forgiven him had he
done wrong in the heat of anger. But this premeditated evil was beyond
forgiveness. To make it worse, he had come direct from the doing of it to
meet her, with a brazen smile on his lips and a lie in his heart. She
would never speak to him again--never so long as she lived.

CHAPTER IV

THE MAN WITH THE CHIHUAHUA HAT