"Oh, it was some bigger difference than that. He didn't want to tell me about it until he was sure, but maybe he would tell you." Rob laughed. "Aren't you ingenious, miss? Not till morning, anyway. Maybe I'll talk to him then, unless Raeburn gets home first. If I can only see the judge for five minutes, he'll probably dismiss the case against me without another word." Garnett looked up eagerly when Harry entered the office. "He didn't want to see me?" he asked. "He will in the morning." She blushed faintly, but still faced him with frank eyes. "Well, let's go. You're all in. It's nearly midnight, do you know it? And you haven't had a square meal all day." "I'm not a bit hungry, but I am sleepy, most horribly sleepy." She yawned and laughed at the same time. As they went out into the street, Harry drew a deep breath and lifted her face. How sweet the fresh air was! And to think of Rob's being shut up in that horrible prison! "I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused you," said Garnett, when they stopped at the foot of the hotel steps. "But I won't leave this game until it's played through." He held out his hand to her, raised his hat and looked at her; in his steady blue eyes was an expression of sincere friendliness that put courage into Harry's heart. The confidence which that assurance of good will inspired in her sent Harry to a dreamless sleep. When she came down to breakfast the next morning, the hotel clerk handed her a note. _Miss Holliday_, DEAR FRIEND, Am sorry not to drive you across the prairie to-day, but have gone to hunt up that Jones. Saw your brother early, and gave him a look at Hunter. He says it's the same herder that beat him up. Your brother ain't talking about Jones, but I'll camp on his trail until I find him, or what was him, and fetch him along back to straighten this business out. Resp. CHRISTOPHER GARNETT. The letter was like the warm handclasp he had given her last night. She hurried off to see Rob, hoping that now he would feel differently toward Garnett. But Rob returned her cheery greeting without much enthusiasm. "Garnett's all right," he said, in answer to her eager question. "He admits he thinks I didn't steal his horse, but some one did, and Jones looks like a good one to put it on. I promised to keep Jones's affairs quiet until he gets ready to talk himself. If Garnett finds him, he may get what he can from him; that's no affair of mine. When I see Judge Raeburn, he'll put the whole business straight in five minutes." "Well." Harry's voice was colorless, and she stared past Rob at the window. Then, with a quick change of manner, she turned to him. "In his note Garnett said that Boykin _is_ Hunter. What will that mean, Rob?" Rob's face lighted up. "If we can prove that he is, we can contest his filing on that land." "O Rob! How perfectly splendid! But how soon can we find out?"