She looked at him and laughed. Then, coming close, she patted one of the weathered cheeks. "He's awfully nice, daddy--and so mysterious!" The giggle she forced somehow reassured him. He did not know it was forced. They arrived at Jed's ranch as Kelly, the horse buyer, was preparing to depart after long weeks in the country. His bunch was in the lower pasture and two saddle horses waited at the gate. Thorpe and his daughter found Jed, VB, and Kelly in the cabin. The horse buyer was just putting bills back into his money belt, and Jed still fingered the roll that he had taken for his horses. "Aren't you afraid to pack all that around, Kelly?" Thorpe asked. "No--nobody holds people up any more," he laughed. "There's only an even six hundred there, anyhow--and a fifty-dollar bill issued by the Confederate States of America, which I carry for luck. My father was a raider with Morgan," he explained, "and I was fifteen years old before I knew 'damn Yank' was two words!" VB was preparing to go with the buyer, to ride the first two days at least to help him handle the bunch. They expected to make it well out of Ranger the second day, and after that Kelly would pick up another helper. Gail followed VB when he went outside. "I'm going away, too," she said. "So?" "Yes; mother and I will leave for California day after to-morrow, for the winter." "That will be fine!" "Will I be missed?" He shrank from this personal talk. He remembered painfully their last meeting. He was acutely conscious of how it had ended, and knew that the incident of his abrupt departure must have set her wondering. "Yes," he answered, meeting her answer truthfully, "I shall miss you. I like you." Such a thing from him was indeed a jolt, and Gail stooped to pick up a wisp of hay to cover her confusion. "But I'm sorry," he said, "I must be going." She looked up in surprise. The horse buyer still talked and the discussion bade fair to go on for a long time. "You're not starting?" she asked. "Oh, no. Not for half an hour, anyhow. But you see, the Captain found a pup-hole yesterday and wrenched his leg a little. Not much, but I don't want him to work when anything's wrong. So I'm leaving him behind and I must look after him. Will you excuse me? Good-by!" She was so slow in extending her hand that he was forced to reach down for it. It was limp within his, and she merely mumbled a response to his hasty farewell. Gail watched him swing off toward the corral, saw him enter through the gate and put his face against the stallion's neck. She strolled toward the car, feet heavy. "He wouldn't even ask me to go--go with him. He cares more about--that horse--than--" She clenched her fists and whispered: "I hate you! I hate you!" Then mounting to the seat and tucking the robe about her ankles, she blew her nose, wiped her eyes, and in a voice strained high said: "No, I don't, either."