Then she came a pace down the steps and shook hands with Bull. He took the small hand carefully, with a fear that the bones would break unless he were excessively gentle. At last she laughed so frankly that a tingle went through his big body, and he peered closely at her. As a rule the laughter of others made him hot with shame, but this laughter was different; it seemed to invite him into a pleasant secret. "I'm glad to meet the man who conquered Diablo," she was saying. "I didn't beat Diablo," he hastened to explain. "We just sort of reached an understanding. He saw that I didn't mean him any harm--so he let me ride him. That's all there was to it!" He saw her eyes narrow a trifle as she looked down at him, for she had drawn back to the level of the porch. Was she despising him and condemning him merely because he had told her the truth? He flushed at the thought, and then he was called into the house by Dunbar and brought to a room. The size of it inspired him with a profound awe, and he was still gaping when Dunbar left him. In the hall the master of the house met Riley, and the fox-faced lieutenant drew him aside. "I've got a plan," he said. "You're full of plans," muttered Dunbar evilly. All the way home he had been striving to find some way of explaining his lack of success with the stallion to Mary Hood. She had grown up on the ranch with him, for her father had been the manager of the ranch for twenty years; and she had grown up with the feeling that Hal Dunbar was infallible and invincible. "Did you see the big hulk look at Mary Hood?" Riley asked. The name came pat with the unpleasant part of Hal's brooding, and his scowl grew blacker. "What about it?" "Looked at her as though she was an angel--touched her hand as though it was fire. I tell you, Hal, she knocked Hunter clean off his balance." "Not the first she's done that to," said Hal with meaning. "Maybe not. Maybe not," said Riley rather hastily. "But I been thinking. Suppose you go to Mary and tell her that you're dead set on keeping this Hunter with you. Tell her that he's a hard fellow to handle, that he likes her, and that the best way to make sure of him is for her to be nice to him. She can do that easy. She takes nacheral to flirting." "Flirt with that thick-head? She'd laugh in my face." "She'd do more than that for you, Hal." "H'm," grunted Dunbar, greatly mollified. "I ask her to make Hunter happy. What comes of it? If her father sees Hunter make eyes at her he'll blow the head off the clodhopper." "I know." Riley nodded. "He's always afraid she'll take a fancy to one of the hands and run off with him, or something like that. He's dead set agin' her saying two words to anybody like me, say!" He gritted his teeth and flushed at the thought. Then he continued. "But that's just what you want. You want to get Hunter's head blown off, don't you?" Dunbar caught the shoulder of Riley and whirled him around. "Are you talking murder to me, Riley?"