f him, bathing and binding his foot. Scraps
of a conversation that he had not forgotten revolved in his mind and
brought smiles to his lips.

"She didn't need to act so plum serious when she told me that I didn't
know that I had any right to set there an' make pretty speeches to her.
. . . She wouldn't need to ask me to stay at the cabin all night. I
could have gone on to the Two Diamond. I reckon that snake bite wasn't
so plum dangerous that I'd have died if I'd have rode a little while."

As he came out of a little gully a few miles up the river and rode
along the crest of a ridge that rose above endless miles of plains, his
thoughts went back to that first night in the bunkhouse when the outfit
had come in from the range. Satisfaction glinted in his eyes.

"I reckon them boys didn't make good with her. An' I expect that some
day Leviatt will find he's been wastin' his time."

He frowned at thought of Leviatt and unconsciously his spurs drove hard
against the pony's flanks. The little animal sprang forward, tossing
his head spiritedly. Ferguson grinned and patted its flank with a
remorseful hand.

"Well, now, Mustard," he said, "I wasn't reckonin' on takin' my spite
out on you. You don't expect I thought you was Leviatt." And he
patted the flank again.

He rode down the long slope of the rise and struck the level, traveling
at a slow lope through a shallow washout. The ground was broken and
rocky here and the snake-like cactus caught at his stirrup leathers. A
rattler warned from the shadow of some sage-brush and, remembering his
previous experience, he paused long enough to shoot its head off.

"There," he said, surveying the shattered snake, "I reckon you ain't to
blame for me bein' bit by your uncle or cousin, or somethin', but I
ain't never goin' to be particular when I see one of your family
swingin' their head that suggestive."

He rode on again, reloading his pistol. For a little time he traveled
at a brisk pace and then he halted to breathe Mustard. Throwing one
leg over the pommel, he turned half way around in the saddle and swept
the plains with a casual glance.

He sat erect instantly, focusing his gaze upon a speck that loomed
through a dust cloud some miles distant. For a time he watched the
speck, his eyes narrowing. Finally he made out the speck to be a man
on a pony.

"He's a-fannin' it some," he observed, shading his eyes with his hands;
"hittin' up the breeze for fair." H