But Leonard had never been up to Camp, and was not interested in mining, but in ranch lands; therefore, Ross got but little enlightenment from him, and finally, ceasing to question, listened in silence while the older man, in obedience to the senior Grant's request, did his best to interest the junior Grant in the business prospects of Wyoming. "I want you to come down to Basin at Christmas," Leonard said cordially as host and guest sat down to dinner in the dining-room of "The Irma" at six o'clock that night. "My home is in Basin. It's the county-seat of Big Horn County, you know; and I want you to come down there. I want to show you more of this magnificent country." Ross was grateful for this friendly invitation, but made no promises; and presently the two were eating in silence, Ross looking with interest on some of the contrasts which were too familiar for Leonard even to notice. Under elaborate and gaudy chandeliers was a bare and not overclean floor. Looking down on the thickest and heaviest of cracked china were pictures by well-known artists. Seated around the tables spread in linen, were bearded men in chaps and overalls, flannel shirts and spurs, together with those in tan oxfords and broadcloth. At the table opposite Ross, and facing him, was a man to whom his glance returned again and again. He sat alone. His square, unexpressive face was relieved by a pair of fine dark-brown eyes. The lower part of his face was covered by a stubby reddish beard. His hair was brown, and fell nearly to his eyes, giving him the appearance of having a low forehead. He wore a coat,--the first of its kind Ross had seen,--a short, bulky affair, with a high collar laid over the shoulders and lined throughout with lambskin, the wool badly worn on the collar. His chaps were of undressed leather, with the long hair trimmed short save from the thigh to the ankle. High riding boots, spurs, and a sombrero, which he wore low over his forehead while eating, completed his costume. "Who is he?" asked Ross. Mr. Leonard shook his head. "Man next to me here said he rode in this afternoon on the Yellowstone trail. Don't know who he is." As if he felt he was under discussion, the stranger raised his head, and his eyes met Ross's in a quick furtive glance. After dinner Leonard gripped Ross's hand in farewell, and left. An hour later there was a rattle of wheels in front of the hotel, the sound of horses's hoofs, and a rollicking voice called: "Meeteetse stage. All aboard!" Ross, with a glance around the office which he expected to see again before spring, picked up his bag, and went out on the piazza. Here he stood while his trunk and the emergency chest were swung up behind the stage and roped. Then he climbed up beside the driver, who was glad to have some one near to help him keep awake during the long night ride, and they were off, only to be stopped almost immediately by a man standing in the doorway of a store.