"No luck yet, honey. He's hiding in some pocket of the hills, I reckon; and likely there he'll stay till the hunt is past. They don't make them any slicker than Dunc, dad gum his ugly hide!" "What is that paper?" his daughter asked. Lee curbed a disposition toward bad language, as he viewed it with disgust. "This here is bulletin number one, girl. It's the cheekiest, most impudent thing I ever saw. MacQueen serves notice to all the people of this county to keep out of this fight. Also, he mentions me and Jack Flatray by name--warning us that, if we sit in the game, hell will be popping for us." "What will you do?" "Do? I'll get back to my boys fast as horseflesh will get me there, once I've had a talk with that beef buyer from Kansas City I made an appointment to see before this thing broke loose. You don't allow I'm going to let any rustler dictate to me what I'll do and what I won't--do you?" "Where do you reckon he had this printed?" she asked. "I don't reckon, I know. Late last night a masked man woke up Jim Snell. You know, he sleeps in a room at the back of the printing office. Well, this fellow made him dress, set up this bill, and run off five hundred copies while he stood over him. I'll swan I never heard of such cheek!" Melissy told what she had to tell--after which her father shaved, took a bath, and went out to meet the buyer from Kansas City. His business kept him until noon. After dinner Melissy's saddle horse was brought around, and she joined her father to ride back with him for a few miles. About three o'clock she kissed him good-bye, and turned homeward. After she had passed the point where the Silver Creek trail ran into the road she heard the sound of a galloping horse behind. A rider was coming along the trail toward town. He gained on her rapidly, and presently a voice hailed her gayly: "The top o' the mornin' to you, Miss 'Lissie." She drew up to wait for him. "My name is still Miss Lee," she told him mildly, by way of correction. "I'm glad it is, but we can change it in three minutes at any time, my dear," he laughed. She had been prepared to be more friendly toward him, but at this she froze again. "Did you leave Mrs. O'Connor and the children well?" she asked pointedly, looking directly at him. His smile vanished, and he stared at her in a very strange fashion. She had taken the wind completely out of his sails. It had not occurred to him that O'Connor might be a married man. Nor did he know but that it might be a trick to catch him. He did the only thing he could do--made answer in an ironic fashion, which might mean anything or nothing. "Very well, thank you." She saw at once that the topic did not allure him, and pushed home her advantage. "You must miss Mrs. O'Connor when you are away on duty." "Must I?" "And the children, too. By the way, what are their names?" "You're getting up a right smart interest in my family, all of a sudden," he countered.