The Honorable Senator Sage-Brush

-fire to wrangle morosely over what should be done with him, Evan Blount found it simply impossible to realize that they were actu

farther it was to Debbleby's. Then, at a sudden sharp turn in the canyon bridle-path, he had stumbled upon the camp-fire, had heard an explosive "Hands up!" and had found himself confronted by three men, with one of the three

back to the little episode on the hotel porch. The passing glance he had given to the three men with whom the fourth man, Hathaway, had been talking did not enable him to identify them with the three who were sourly discussing his fate at the near-by fire; none the less, the conclusion was fa

entlemen are making, I shall be obliged if you will tell

est at this stage o' the game," growled the hard-faced spokesman who had held t

redly. "So far as I know, there is only

" was the gruff decision of the court; but Blount

an, but in the present case I am very sure I should," he wen

who you are-that

" question

he boss; now h

e talk with Gantry on the veranda of the

he countered coolly. "And I am very sure

?" demanded

erhaps you'd better call up headquarters and ask yo

ame around the fire to s

he remarked grimly. "The boss didn't say you was to be rubbed out-they nev

your friends, and quite probably for the man or men who sent you to waylay me. But

ht. If there's been any fumblin' done, I hain't

ot?" sai

on't git over into them woods on Upper Lost C

e was a very striking refutation of the charitable assumption. His smoking-room companion of the Pullman car was doubtless one of the timber-pillagers who had been cutting on the public domain. To such a man an agent of the National Forest Service was an enemy to be hoodwinked, if possible, or

ne by searching me," he said. "My name is Blount, and I am the son of ex-S

you say?" gra

heave me into the canyon if you are

word or two he gathered that there were still some leanings toward the sound old maxim which declares that "dead men tell no tales." When the decision was finally reached, he was left to guess its purpo

to give you a chance to prove up. If you don't prove up, you pass out-that's all. Now git in line and hike out; and if you're

hat the boyhood memories were no longer to be trusted. Up and down, the trail zigzagged and climbed, always penetrating deeper and deeper into the heart of th

hrough this second range the trail plunged into a deep, cleft-like canyon with a brawling torrent for its pathfinder. Once more Blount lost the sense of direction, and when the canyon trail came out upon broad upla

side from the main road into an avenue of spreading cottonwood trees. At its head the avenue became a circular driveway; and fronting the driv

he steps and touched the bell-push. Blount had a fleeting glimpse of a black head with a fringe of snowy wool when the door was opened, but he did not hear what was

of her red housegown, stood a woman-a lady, and evidently the mistress of the Georgian mansion. She was small and dark, with brown eyes that were almost childlike in their winsomeness; a woman who might be twenty, or thirty,

little lady asked, turnin

rect and straigh

if you know this here young feller.

dazed one. "Please come in; we have been expecting you." Then again to the man with the W

aptors were riding away down the cottonwood-shaded avenue. When he realized what he was doing he was as nearl

hand which he was only now remembering that he had forgotten to relinquish. "Naturally, I inferred that

, understand the boyish impulse which had prompted him to leave his train, or the curious di

"They-they mistook me for some one else, I think, and for reasons best known to themselves t

here," she broke in; "nor is there any house within tha

imself by name. She took the bit of pasteboard, and, since she scarcely glanced a

nd then, to his complete bewilderment: "You

y father?"

s son is heartily welcome under this roof. Uncle Barnabas"-to the ancient serving-man who was

d hostess obediently when she le

g of the g

sure you must be needing it after having ridden so far. Take the easy-chair, and we can talk comfortably while the kettle is boiling. Are you new to the West, Mr. Blount, or is this only a re

rapid strides on the way to confidence and finding her alertly responsive in whatever field the talk happened to fall. Apparently she knew the world-his world-better than he knew it himself: she had summered on the North Shore and wintered in Washington. She knew Paris, and when the conversation touched upon the Italian art-galleries he was led to wonder if he had gone through Italy with his eyes shut. At the nex

ck to his one winter in the South, the hostess went with him as far as the stair-foot, and her "Good-night" was still ringing musically in his ears when the old negro lighted the candles in the guest-room, put another stick of wood

uppose you tell me where I am," h

now dat, sah?-a-ain't de mistis done tell you dat? You's at Wa'trace Hall

d Blount, whose bewilderment grew w

you, ol' Barnabas ain't gwine to-no, sah. Ah'll bring yo'-all's coffee in de mawnin'; yes, sah-good

e commonplace from the amazing; and he decided that he had surely burst through one of them when he had given place to the vagrant i

little lady who looked as if she might be twenty, and had all the wit and wisdom of the ages at her tongue's end-who had

ng of a motor-car aroused him. There was a window at his bed's head, and he reached over and drew the curtain. The view gave upon the avenue of cottonwoods and the circular carriage approach. A touring-c

as sitting up so late-she was waiting for him." Then to the thronging queries threatening