ven different kinds of hell in her!"

After all, there are problems which Pythagoras never solved.

The longest road must have an end. Ritch's Ranch was passed far to the
right, lying low in the long shadow of Kaylor; then the mouth of
Hembrillo Canyon; far ahead, a shifting flicker of Baird's windmill
topped the brush. It grew taller; the upper tower took shape. He dipped
into the low, mirage-haunted basin, where the age-old Texas Trail
crosses the narrow western corner of the White Sands. When he emerged
the windmill was tall and silver-shining; the low iron roofs of the
house gloomed sullen in the sun.

Dust rose from the corral. Now Jeff's ostensible errand to the West Side
had been the search for strays; three days before he had prudently been
three days' ride farther to the north. The reluctance with which he had
turned back southward was justified by the fact that this critical
afternoon found him within striking distance of Arcadia--striking
distance, that is, should he care for a bit of hard riding. This was
exactly what Jeff had fought against all along. So, when he saw the
dust, he loped up.

It was as he had feared. A band of horses was in the waterpen; among
them a red-roan head he knew--Copperhead, of Pringle's mount; confirmed
runaway. Jeff shut the gate. For the first time that day, he permitted
himself a discreet glance eastward to Arcadia.

"Three days," he said bitterly, while Grasshopper thrust his eager
muzzle into the water-trough--"three days I have braced back my feet and
slid, like a yearlin' at a brandin' bee--and look at me now! Oh,
Copperhead, you darned old fool, see what you done now!"

In this morose mood he went to the house. There was no one at home. A
note was tacked on the door.

Gone to Plomo. Back in two or three days. Beef hangs under
platform on windmill tower. When you get it, oil the mill.
Books and deck of cards in box under bed. Don't leave fire in
stove when you go.

GENE BAIRD.

N. B.--Feed the cat.

Jeff built a fire in the stove and unsaddled the weary Grasshopper. He
found some corn, which he put into a woven-grass _morral_ and hung on
Grasshopper's nose. He went to the waterpen, roped out Copperhead and
shut him in a side corral. Then he let the bunch go. They strained
through the gate in a mad run, despite shrill and frantic remonstrance
from Copperhead.

"Jeff," said Jeff soberly, "are you going to be a dam