The Range Boss

marching behind a thick clump of alder, he proceeded to make the change. After this he climbed down to the river and washed the mud from visible portions of his body. Then

the silence was broken only once. That was when, at about the f

be mean. And it was so manly of him to apologize to you." She laughed, thinking that time had already removed the sting. "And

t refer to it again,

, hardy, and mysterious with their ugly thorns that seemed to threaten and mock. She shrank, too, when the buckboard passed the skeleton of a steer, its bleached bones ghastly in the sunlight, but she smiled when she saw a sea of soap-weed with yellow blossoms already unfolding, and she looked long at a mile-wide section of mesquite, dark and inviting in the distance. She saw a rattler cross the trail in front of the buckboard and draw its loathsome length into a coil at the base of some crabbed yucca, and thereafter she made grimaces at each of th

iver seemed to fit very well here. The spirit of the young, unfettered country was in his e

for during the last day of her ride on the train she had passed many ranchhouses and she had been appalled and depressed by the dilapidated appearance of their exteriors, and by the general atmosphere of disorder and shiftlessness that seemed to surround them.

and set on a solid foundation of stone. It looked spacious and comfortable. The other buildings-stables, bunkhouse, messhouse, blacksmith shop, and several others-did not discredit the ranchhouse. They all were in good repai

acter of the land surrounding the house was a sort of rolling level. The foothills belonging to the mountains that she had seen while approaching the ranchhouse were behind the cottonwood grove. She had seen, too, that the river they had crossed at the ford which Wes Vickers

lt a pulse of trepidation as they sauntered close to the wagon. Vickers had told her nothing directly concerning the character of the men at the ranch, but during their conversation at Red Rock that morni

lainous with his long, drooping black mustache and heavy-thatched eyebrows. He eyed the occupants of

xpressive lips that were twisted upward at one corner in an insincere smirk. Thi

h Harkness-the ol' m

l, smiling. Perhaps she

"you're a stunner for looks, anyway." He reached out his hand. She took it, feeling tha

reaking an awkward silence. "Tom Chavis is specia

veiled significance. She reddened a little,

m Chavis?"

nd toward the other man, not looking at him. "This is my friend Jim Pi

at he must see her embarrassment, and that he might relieve her of the burden of this conversation. She looked quickly at him; he appeared to be unconcern

elt a little

e indicated Masten with a nod of her head toward him. "This is Mr. Willard Mast

he had worn before the ducking, and quite as immaculate-but something in the Easterner's eyes kept the sneer back; his own eyes gleamed with a quick, comprehensive fire, and he smiled. In the buckboa

d, an' I reckon him an' me will get on." He urged Pickett forward and introduced

es. They had gone more than half way in welcoming him. Of course, there was Chavis' bold allusion to a "pretty woma

ped her down, performing a like service for Aunt Martha. Uncle Jepson g

he house. Get some refreshment and take a res

e hand, and, followed by Uncle Jeps