"Well," considered Knowles, "I'm not saying you can't or won't. It's mighty curious what a young fellow can do to please a pretty girl. Just the same, I'd say from the color of Kid's fingers that he hasn't forgotten how to roll a fat Mexican _cigaretto_.--Hello! 'Talk of the devil--' Here he comes now." Gowan came around the corner of the house, his spurs jingling. His eyes were as cold and his face as emotionless as usual. "Well?" asked Knowles. "Have a seat." "Didn't get him," reported Gowan, dropping into a chair. "Near as I could make out, he cut straight across for the railroad, on the jump." "Then it must have been that guide!" exclaimed Ashton. "Looks that way," added Knowles. "Glad of it. We won't see him again, unless you want to notify the sheriff, when you ride over tomorrow." "No, oh, no. I am satisfied to be rid of him." "If he don't come back," remarked Gowan. "He won't," predicted Knowles. "Well, not for a time maybe," agreed Gowan. CHAPTER VIII A MAN'S SIZE HORSE At dusk the sonorous boom of a Japanese gong gave warning of the approach of the supper hour. A few minutes later a second booming summoned all in to the meal. Miss Isobel sat at one end of the table; her father at the other. Along the sides were the employes, Ashton and Gowan at the corners nearest the girl. A large coal oil lamp with an artistic shade cast a pink light on the clean white oilcloth of the table and the simple tasteful table service. Yuki, the silent Jap, served all with strict impartiality, starting with the mistress of the house and going around the table in regular succession, either one way or the other. The six rough-appearing haymakers used their knives with a freedom to which Ashton was unaccustomed, but their faces were clean, their behavior quiet, and their occasional remarks by no means inapt. After the meal they wished Miss Knowles a pleasant "Good-night," and left for the bunkhouse. But Ashton and Gowan, at the smiling invitation of the girl, followed her into the front room. Knowles came in a few minutes later and, with scarcely a glance at the young people, settled down beside a tableful of periodicals and magazines to study the latest Government report on the reclamation service. Ashton had entered the "parlor" under the impression that here he would have Gowan at a disadvantage. To his surprise, the puncher proved to be quite at ease; his manners were correct and his conversation by no means provincial. A moment's reflection showed Ashton that this could not well be otherwise, in view of the young fellow's intimacy with Miss Chuckie Isobel.