Six Feet Four

t yonder in front of him the stage, driven rapidly by Hap Smith that he might make up a little of the lost time, topped a gentle rise, stood

settled up for this kind of game to be pulled off so all-fired regularly. Cole Dalton

wly now, allowing Hap Smith's speeding horses to draw swiftly away ahead of him. He saw the stage once more climbing a distant ridge; then it was lost to him in the steepening hills. A little more than an hour later he turned off to

of long horns and saddle ponies. Before him were the mountains with Kemble's place upon their far slope and his own home range lying still farther to the east. There were

eepy, slow moving figures to fit into a glowing landscape, harmoniously. The horse drank slowly, shook its head in half tolerant protest at the flies singing before its eyes, and played with the water with twitching lips as though, with no will to take up the trail again, it sought to deceive its master into thinking that it was still drinking. The man yawned and his drowsy eyes came away from the wood-to

is way?" he asked himself alo

tle man found and understood. There, close to the water's edge and almost under his own horse's body, were the tracks a shod horse had left not very long ago. The spring water was still tr

But," and he leaned further forward studying the foot print, "it's a mighty good bet I could tell what she looks like from the shape of her h

nto his horse's mouth and

at still, looking down at the medley of tracks. "I'd have seen her hors

left his eyes and a sl

horse with a to

omething to ride for now! We're going to see Miss Grey Eyes again. There's

the other side. Often his eyes ran far ahead, seeking swiftly for the slender figure he constantly expected to see riding eastward before him; often they dropped to th

d again was in low rolling hills. Her horse's tracks were there always before him, and yet he had had n

ooks like she was headed for Harte's Camp too. And

it wound along the edges of the many ravines. Again and again the ground was so flinty that it held no sign to show whether shod horse had passed over it or not. But he told himself that there was scant likelihood of her having turned out here; there was but the one trail now. And th

ordy, but this cattle country is sure getting shot all to

d horse for which he was seeking to account was certainly a larger animal, leaving bigger tracks, deeper sunk. There was little difficulty in distinguishing one from the other.

erwise. Here lay the hint of a story; who was the second rider, what was his business? Wh

in sight of the end of his day's ride. He crossed the stream, and then, looking for the tracks he had been following, he saw that again the pony was pushing on ahead of him,

the three log cabins under the oaks of Harte's place. Beyond was the barn. He would go there, find he

within. But he was not thinking a great deal of the supper. He had found the pony in the barn, had even seen a quirt which he remembered, knew that he had not been mistaken in the matter of ownership of the trim boots that had left their marks at the s

woman is took sick. Back in the morning m

hesitated the door was flung open and a pair of troubled grey eyes looked out at him searchingly; a pair of red lips

… and make yourself at home, too? I'

arrassment began to grow and hers seemed to m

waiting. And I'm simp

ton l

it," he admitted