"Well," he conceded; "mebbe it's odd. But I'm still headin' for the Rancho Seco. Mebbe I forgot to tell you that your father said I was to go--that he made me promise to go." He had not mentioned that before; and the girl glanced sharply at him. He met the glance with a slow grin which had in it a quality of that subtleness she had noticed in him before. A shiver of trepidation ran over her. But she sat rigid in the saddle, determined she would not be afraid of him. For the exchange of talk between them, and his considerate manner--everything about him--had convinced her that he was much like other men--men who respect women. "There is no evidence that father made you promise to go to the Rancho Seco." "There wasn't no evidence that I made any promise to keep that man Deveny from herd-ridin' you," he said shortly, with a grin. "I'm sure goin' to the Rancho Seco." "Suppose I should not wish it--what then?" "I'd keep right on headin' for there--keepin' my promise." "Do you always keep your promises?" she asked, mockery in her voice. "When I make 'em. Usually, I don't do any promisin'. But when I do--that promise is goin' to be kept. If you ain't likin' my company, ma'am, why, I reckon there's a heap of trail ahead. An' I ain't afraid of gettin' lost." "Isn't that remarkable!" she jeered. He looked at her with sober eyes. "If we're figurin' on hittin' the Rancho Seco before night we'll have to quit our gassin' an' do some travelin'," he advised. "Accordin' to the figures we've got about forty miles to ride, altogether. We've come about fifteen--an'," he looked at a silver watch which he drew from a pocket, "it's pretty near two now." Without further words--for it seemed useless to argue the point upon which he was so obviously determined--Barbara urged Billy on, taking the lead. For more than an hour she maintained the lead, riding a short distance in advance, and seemingly paying no attention to Harlan. Yet she noted that he kept about the same distance from her always--though she never permitted him to observe that she watched him, for her backward glances were taken out of the corners of her eyes, when she pretended to be looking at the country on one side or the other. Harlan, however, noted the glances. And his lips curved into a faint grin as he rode. Once when he had dropped behind a little farther than usual, he leaned over and whispered into Purgatory's ear: "She's sure ignorin' us, ain't she, you black son-of-a-gun! She ain't looked back here more'n three times in the last five minutes!" And yet Harlan's jocular mood did not endure long. During those intervals in which Barbara kept her gaze straight ahead on the trail, Harlan regarded her with a grave intentness that betrayed the soberness of his thoughts. In all his days he had seen no woman like her; and when she had come toward him in Lamo, with Higgins close behind her, he had been so astonished that he had momentarily forgotten Deveny and all the rest of them.