So did the "old man" sleep well that night--a heavy drunken stupor. He had returned from town that afternoon in his usual condition, as wild-eyed as the half-broken horses that he drove, and for awhile made things lively about the place. At such times he ruled with a high and mighty hand, and even the little babies crept out of his way as he approached. He roused up some of the idle breeds and started a poker game, which soon broke up, owing to a financial deficiency among them. Then he roped a wild-looking stallion and rode off at a mad gait, without any apparent object, toward a peacefully feeding bunch of cattle. He rode around it, driving the cows and calves into a huddled, frightened group, then left them to recover their composure, riding, still as madly as ever, back to the stables. But the whisky finally got in its work, and Joe Harris, to the great relief of his Indian wife and family, laid himself away in a corner of the kitchen, and peace again reigned supreme. Hope and Louisa very fortunately missed all the excitement. The darkness was intense when they rode up to the ranch. Quiet pervaded the place, and not a light shone from the house. "These people must go to bed with the chickens," remarked O'Hara. "Here's some matches, Hope," said Carter, standing beside her on the ground when she had dismounted. "Never mind your horses, I'll take care of them. Run right in. Such a place for you! Darker'n a stack of black cats! I'll stand here by the house till I see a light in your room." Just then a group of men, led by Shorty Smith, came out of the dark passage between the kitchen and the other part of the house, and made their way toward the stables. The ones in the rear did not see the riders, and were muttering roughly among themselves. They had been making another fruitless search for the cattle-man's whisky, and were now going to bed. "Come back here," said Sydney, drawing both girls toward the horses which O'Hara was holding. They moved backward under his grasp and waited until the men had passed. "Hope, you'll either have to change your boarding place or go home," announced her cousin. "I'll do neither," replied the girl decisively. "Don't be foolish, Syd, because of a darkened house and a handful of harmless men! I'm not a baby, either. You'll make Larry think I'm a very helpless sort of person. Don't believe him, Larry! I'll admit that this isn't always a safe country for men, but there is no place on earth where a woman is surer of protection than among these same wild, dare-devil characters. I know what I'm talking about. Home? Well, I guess not! Come on, Louisa. See, she isn't afraid! Are you? Good-night, both of you!" "Goot-night," called the German girl.