"Harlan was right about your riding out alone. I'd stay as close to the ranchhouse as possible. There's no telling what Deveny might try to do. But don't worry. If it wasn't so soon after--after what has happened--I would--" He smiled, and Barbara knew he meant what he had said to her many times--about there being a parson in Lazette, a hundred miles or so northeastward--and of his eagerness to be present with her while the parson "tied the knot." His manner had always been jocose, and yet she knew of the earnestness behind it. Still, she had not yielded to his importunities, because she had not been quite sure that she wanted him. Nor was she certain now, though she liked him better at this moment than she had ever liked him before. She shook her head negatively, answering his smile; and watched him as he rode around a corner of the ranchhouse toward the corral where, no doubt, he would find Harlan. * * * * * Harlan had ridden directly to the bunkhouse door and dismounted. Red Linton said nothing until Harlan seated himself on a bench just outside the bunkhouse door. Then Linton grinned at him. "There's a geezer come a-wooin'," he said. Harlan glared at the red-haired man--a truculent, savage glare that made Linton stretch his lips until the corners threatened to retreat to his ears. Then Linton assumed a deprecatory manner. "They ain't no chance for _him_, I reckon. He's been burnin' up the breeze between here an' the Star for more'n a year--an' she ain't as much as kissed him, I'd swear!" Harlan did not answer. "You saw him?" questioned Linton. "Shut your rank mouth." Linton chuckled. "I didn't know you'd been hit that bad. Howsomever, if you _have_ been, why, there's no sense of me wastin' time gassin' to you. They ain't nothin' will cure that complaint but petticoats an' smiles--the which is mighty dangerous an' uncertain. I knowed a man once----" Harlan got up and walked to the bunkhouse. And Linton, grinning, called loudly after him, pretending astonishment. "Why, he's gone. Disappeared complete. An' me tryin' to jam some sense into his head." Grinning, Linton sauntered away, vanishing within the blacksmith-shop. He had hardly disappeared when Haydon appeared from around a corner of the ranchhouse, at about the instant Harlan, sensing the departure of Linton, came to the door, frowning. The frown still narrowed Harlan's eyes when they rested upon the horseman; and his brows were drawn together with unmistakable truculence when Haydon dismounted near the corral fence. Haydon's manner had undergone a change. When in the presence of Barbara he had been confident, nonchalant. When he dismounted from his horse and walked toward Harlan there was about him an atmosphere that suggested carefulness. Before Haydon had taken half a dozen steps Harlan was aware that the man knew him--knew of his reputation--and feared him.