And so she sat down again with Sonny in her lap and Brand sat down opposite, and they fell to talking there in the whispering silence, while the late sun gilded the high blade of the rimrock and the cool shadows deepened in the gorge. It was strange fairy-land to Nance, and all the inner country of her spirit shone and sparkled under a fire of stars. She had never felt so before—never known the half-tremulous excitement which filled her now. When this man spoke she listened avidly, her blue eyes on his face. He seemed the visible embodiment of all she had missed in life, the cities, the open seas, the distant lands and the pleasures. As he sat before her in his worn garments which might have denoted a poverty as great as hers, he seemed rich beyond compare, a potentate of the world. He smoked small brown cigarettes which he made from a little old leather pouch and rolled with the dexterity of long usage, and he buried each stub carefully in the sand. He was a marvellous person, indeed, and Nance regarded him in a sort of awe. “I’ve been in to Cordova a time or two,” he said casually, “and have met the sheriff and several others. To them I’m a prospector. There seems to be a lot of unrest in the country.” “It’s the rustlers,” said Nance, “a lot of cattle have disappeared, and some folks blame the sheriff. I don’t. I think he does all he can. It’s a great mystery. We lost some ourselves. I’ve ridden myself down looking for them, and so has my brother, Bud, and we’ve never found a hoof-mark.” “Strange. Isn’t there any one you might suspect in these hills?” “I’ve heard that Sheriff Selwood is watching Kate Cathrew, but the others laugh at him.” Fair’s eyes narrowed just a fraction of an inch. “Cathrew?” he said. “Who’s she?” “The woman who owns Sky Line Ranch,” returned Nance grimly, “and my enemy.” “What? Your enemy? How’s that?” “Simple as two and two. She’s a cattle queen—they call her Cattle Kate Cathrew—and she runs her stock on the slopes of Mystery. She’s rich—lives in a wonderful house up under the edge of Rainbow Cliff, and rides a beautiful horse. Her saddle alone is worth my team and harness—my new harness that I had to buy to take the place of the one that somebody cut to pieces in the night. She wants our land—our great fine flats on Nameless that’d feed her cattle through. She’s always wanted it. She tried to scare my father off, and since he was found dead at the foot of Rainbow she’s tried to scare us off—Bud and Mammy and I. But we don’t scare,” she finished bitterly, “not worth a cent.” Brand Fair leaned forward, and this time his eyes had lost their pleasant smile, and had narrowed to slits. The fingers that held his cigarette were tense. “Tell me,” he said, “what does this woman look like? I’ve heard of her a little, but I’ve never been able—I’ve never seen her.”