Harlan grinned faintly. "He's been fannin' it right along for half an hour," he said, with seeming irrelevance. "Who?" she asked, with a swift, uncomprehending glance at him. "Your gentleman," he said slowly. She followed the direction of his gaze, and saw, on the trail that led downward from a little table-land to the level that stretched toward the ranchhouse, a horseman, coming rapidly toward them. "It's Mr. Haydon!" she ejaculated, her voice leaping. "So it is," said Harlan, dryly. He looked keenly at her, noting the flush on her face, the brightness of her eyes. "You ain't forgettin' to give him that piece of chain." "Why," she said, drawing the glittering links from a pocket of her skirt; "I have it here. You may return it to him." "Me an' Haydon ain't on speakin' terms," he smiled. "He wouldn't appreciate it none, if I give it to him." "Why--" she began, only to pause and look at him with a sudden comprehension in her eyes. For into Harlan's face had come an expression that, she thought, she could analyze. It was jealousy. That was why he was reluctant to return the chain to Haydon. The situation was so positively puerile, she thought, that she almost felt like laughing. She would have laughed had it not been that she knew of Harlan's unfailing vigilance--and that she felt differently toward him now than she had felt during the first days of their acquaintance. His steadfast vigilance, she decided, must have been responsible for the change, together with the steady consideration he revealed for her. At any rate, something about him had affected her. She felt more gentle toward him; more inclined to believe in him; and there had been times during the past few days when she had been astonished at the subtle, warm sensation that had stolen over her whenever she saw him or whenever she thought of him. Something of that warmth toward him was in her eyes now as she watched him and she decided that she should humor his whim; that she should perform the action that he was reluctant to perform. She smiled, with the wisdom of a woman to whom a secret had been unwittingly revealed. "You don't like Haydon?" "Him an' me ain't goin' to be bosom friends." "Why don't you like him?" she asked banteringly. She thought his grin was brazen. "Why don't you like me?" "I don't know," she said coldly. But her face reddened a little. "Well," he laughed; "that's why I don't like Haydon." Haydon had crossed the big level, and was close to the ranchhouse. The girl had determined to remain where she was, to return the piece of chain to Haydon in the presence of Harlan--in order to learn what she could of the depth of Harlan's dislike for Haydon when in the presence of the latter. And so a silence came between them as they watched Haydon ride toward them.