sure of the writing?"

Grant smiled, as it were, compassionately. "I would recognize it
anywhere!"

"Well," said Breckenridge significantly, "that is perhaps not very
astonishing, though I fancy some folks would find it difficult. The 'In
haste' no doubt explains the thing, but it seems to me the last of it does
not quite match the heading."

"It is smeared--thrust into the envelope wet," Larry said.

Breckenridge rose, and walked, with no apparent purpose, across the room.
"Larry," he said, "Tom and I will come with you. No--you wait a minute. Of
course, I know there are occasions on which one's friends' company is
superfluous--distinctly so; but we could pull up and wait behind the
bluff--quite a long way off, you know."

"I was told to come alone." Larry turned upon him sharply.

Breckenridge made a gesture of resignation. "Then I'm not going to stay
here most of the night by myself. It's doleful. I'll ride over to Muller's
now."

"Will it be any livelier there?"

Breckenridge wondered whether Larry had noticed anything unusual in his
voice, and managed to laugh. "A little," he said. "The fraeulein is pretty
enough in the lamplight to warrant one listening to a good deal about
Menotti and the franc tireurs. She makes really excellent coffee, too,"
and he slipped out before Grant could ask any more questions.

Darkness was just closing down when the latter rode away. There was very
little of the prairie broncho in the big horse beneath him, whose sire had
brought the best blood that could be imported into that country, and he
had examined every buckle of girth and headstall as he fastened them. He
also rode, for lightness, in a thin deerskin jacket which fitted him
closely, with a rifle across his saddle, gazing with keen eyes across the
shadowy waste when now and then a half-moon came out. Once he also drew
bridle and sat still a minute listening, for he fancied he heard the
distant beat of hoofs, and then went on with a little laugh at his
credulity. The Cedar was roaring in its hollow and the birches moaning in
a bluff, but as the damp wind that brought the blood to his cheeks sank,
there was stillness save for the sound of the river, and Grant decided
that his ears had deceived him.

It behooved him to be cautious, for he knew the bitterness of the
cattle-men against him, and the Sheriff's writ still held good; but Hetty
had sent for him, and if his enemies had lain in wait in every bluff and
hollow h