Call it intuition, a sixth sense, or what you will, a feeling of loss which she could not explain gripped Molly Kent. That Crosbie Traynor was dead was tragic; that he had been killed was even more of a shock, but it did not account for the grief which choked her. Johnny told himself he had never been more witless. Why had he been so abrupt? For the first time in his life he saw tears in Molly Kent’s eyes, and questions which he would have to answer. But even though he knew that she would have the facts from him, he still sought to withhold them. This, of course, because he saw no way of telling the complete truth without putting the girl’s father under suspicion. In twenty minutes Johnny managed to become so involved that a child would have known that he was telling less than half of what he knew. It definitely added to Molly’s misery. Also, it awakened in her a sense of shrewdness which left Johnny helpless. “Just what did all this have to do with your leaving the Diamond-Bar?” she asked flatly. Johnny stumbled over his answer. “Why—er—nothin’,” he drawled. Molly nodded her head sagaciously. She was not fooled. “I knew it,” she said decisively. “You’ve been telling me only half the truth. You were too painfully careful not to mention father’s name. Your quarrel had something to do with Mr. Traynor’s death.” Johnny hung his head, afraid to meet her eyes, or else he would have seen the girl’s face pale. “Tell me, Johnny,” she said with a queer little quaver in her voice, “is father in trouble?” “Not that I know of.” “Well, go on,” she prompted. The boy sighed heavily, continuing to look away. “I didn’t want to say nothin’ ’bout our run-in,” said he. “Now you’re thinkin’ all sorts of things, and I got to tell you. Old Aaron’s a fool, and he tried to shut me up. Couldn’t do it, though. Then the boss came in and sided with him. That riled me, seein’ as how the man couldn’t have killed hisself. I made some talk about findin’ out who did the killin’, and I was told pretty plain that I could either punch cattle or quit, that the Diamond-Bar wasn’t payin’ wages to have me goin’ around snoopin’ into what didn’t concern me none.” “I can just hear father saying that,” Molly declared. “You’ve got to forgive him, Johnny. He’s so old; and he worries so lately. He helped to elect Mr. Gallup. Naturally he couldn’t go back on him. Honestly, you had me worried. I just couldn’t imagine what had happened. Don’t look so glum. I’ll see that father asks you to come back.” Johnny raised his head at that. “No,” he said positively. “I wouldn’t do that. A girl couldn’t understand it, I guess; but I’ll never ride for Diamond-Bar again.” “Because of a few hot words?” Molly stopped abruptly, her eyes holding Johnny’s. “Or else—” A shiver cascaded down the boy’s spine as he waited for her to finish, “or else you think that he cut you short because he had something to do with Mr. Traynor’s death. Is that what you think?”