The Range Boss

would be accomplished. For part of the distance, it is true, the man thought it best to dismount, drive the pony ahead of him, and follow

to some foothills. A faint trail came from somewhere through the foothills, wound over the plain, and followed a slope that descended

d it lending an appearance of constriction to its course, but at the crossing it broad

d briefly on the riv

ith grave deliberation. "It's eleven. They'd be due about now-if the Eight O'clock was on time-which she's never been knowed to be." He returned the timepiece to the pocket and rode along the edge of the mesa away from the river, his gaze concentrated at the point where the trail on the plains below him vanished into the distant foothills. A little later he again halted the pony, swun

ontinuing his soliloquy: "The Flyin' W ain't no place for a lady. Jim Pickett an' Tom Chavis ain't fit for no lady to look at-let alone talkin' to them. There's others, too. Now, i

aze to see on the plain's trail, far over near where it mel

saddle and smilingly

wasn't you, Patches? I reckon

t, where he pulled the pony to a halt. From here he would not be observed from the trail on the plains, and he again twisted in the saddle, sa

ss, the Flying W owner, would drive no others after his last sickness had seized him, the sickness which had finally finished him some months before. The blacks were coming rapidly, shortening the distance with the tireless lope that the

her aunt an' uncle. It's a man, too, an' he's doin' the drivin'! I reckon Wes got drunk an' they left him behind." He reflected a moment, watching with narrowed eyes, his brows in a frown. "That guy do

the mesa, and he had caught a good glimpse of her face. It was just like the picture that Wes Vickers had surreptitiously brought to him one day some weeks before, after Harkness' death, when, in talking with Wes about the niece who was now the sole owner of the Flying W, and wh

Stetson with the high pointed crown, extra wide brim with nickel spangles around the band, a white shirt with a broad turndown collar and a flowing colored tie-blue; a cartridge belt that fitted snugly around his waist, yellow with newness, so that the man on the mesa almost imagined he cou

nt just above the buckboard, keeping discreetly behind some brush that he might not be seen, and gravely considered the vehicle and its occupants

untry!" she said. "It

y pleased that she should like the world he lived

k so, Willard?"

s ears for the answer

enough-for the clodho

es," he said to the pony; "he's runnin' down our country." He considered the girl and the driver gravely, and ag

irl's voice reached him again; she was

river replied. "He ought to

no lover would talk that way to his girl." There was relief in

le," declared the driver sonorously, "but I don't see any wagon t

he rider, laboring with the word, "if that means wi

to turn to the right after passing the

member that, Ruth!" said the driver

ere not audible to the rider, so softly were they uttered. And the driver laughed with satisfaction. "You've said it!" he declared. "I'm certainly able to pilot this shi

drop. "Shucks," he said, "I reckon there ain't any real danger. But I expect the boss gasser of the outfit will be gettin' his'n pretty quick now." He leaned forward and watched the buckboard, his lean under jaw thrown forward, a grim smile on his lips. He not

in and swung them sharply in that direction. For a few feet they traveled evenly enough but when they were still some distance from the bank, the hors

pped off the seat, clawing and scrambling; at the instant the front of the buckboard dipped and sank, disappearing with a splash into the muddy water. It had gone down awry, the gir

e driver, who at first had disappeared, only to reappear an instant later, blowing and cursing, his head an

dripping, gesticulating, impotent rage consuming him. The buckboard could not be moved without endangering the comfort of the remaining occupants, and without assistance they

inning with some embarrassment, "though I'm mighty

n the descent, sending stones and sand helter-skelter before it, the rider sitting tal