“The dirty skunk,” Scotty was saying, as he kicked a gun out of the halfbreed’s reach. “He tried to bore you. Never turn your back on a greaser.” “He’s drunk,” cut in Bud, “but that don’t excuse him. Get up, you whelp, and make tracks out of here, you’ll lose your job for this.” Bud took his gun and the halfbreed slunk away with muttered threats. Mason looked at the girl. She had recovered from her fright and was regarding him with large dark eyes filled with gratitude, and suspiciously close to the point of tears. He saw at a glance that she was a Spanish girl of unusual beauty. Taking off his hat he made her a bow and in return he was rewarded with a dainty curtesy. Turning to Bud he shook his hand warmly and said, “Thanks, old man, you saved my life.” “That’s all right, Jack,” the big fellow returned heartily. “You have to watch them greasers. Come, Scotty, let’s play a game of cards. Coming in soon?” he questioned of Mason. The latter nodded. He had turned his attention again to the girl. “Do you know that brute of a half breed?” he asked kindly. “Yes,” she answered in a low musical voice. He was surprised at her command of grammar. She spoke almost pure English. “He used to work on the Ricker ranch where I work,” she added. Mason was surprised. So this was the Spanish girl that Josephine had spoken to him about. He remembered she had said the girl was pretty. He remembered, also, his non-committal answer when she had asked him if he liked brunette beauty. The girl had stood silently while he was turning these thoughts over in his mind. Suddenly with a quick impulse she extended her hand to him, her great eyes filled with deep pathos. “I wish to thank you for defending me against that beast. Oh, how I hate him,” she said with a shudder. “He made life miserable for me while he was at the ranch, and you disposed of him so easily.” Her great eyes swept his stalwart build in silent admiration. “Please don’t mention it. I am very glad to have been of some assistance to you,” he said, a trifle embarrassed. “May I ask whom I am indebted to?” she questioned, as he turned to leave. “Certainly,” he answered with a smile, “my name is Jack Mason.” The girl gave a sudden start, and he fancied her face had turned pale. “My name is Waneda, good-bye,” she said, and was gone quickly. “Now, why in the deuce did she turn pale at the mention of my name?” he asked himself, as he started to join Bud and Scotty. Making his way to the card room he found only Scotty waiting for him. “Bud has gone on ahead,” explained Scotty, “said he had almost forgotten a package that he wanted to get to the old man as soon as possible.” “All right, Scotty, old top,” Mason replied cheerfully, “come over with me to that little dump of a telegraph station we have here. I want to send a message.” The dispatch sent, they made quick time home to the ranch, and Mason told Scotty all about his adventure at the Ricker ranch.