"There's a haystack out in the Lunar pastures. I'll lay low there. Tell Chad when you see him, and have Ruth fix me up something to eat." They parted, each of them to get in what sleep was possible before day. When Steve was awakened by the sound of some one stirring in the next room it seemed as though he had been in bed only a few minutes. He walked up to the hotel before breakfast and saw Harrison as the actor was going into the dining-room. The big man stopped in his tracks and shot out a heavy jaw at him. "Thought you was giving our eyes a rest for a while," he growled. Yeager declined to exchange compliments with him. "There's a friend of yours on the haystack in the pasture. He wants to see you soon as it's convenient." The eyes of the pugilist narrowed. "Put a name to him." "Phil Seymour." "What's he doing here?" demanded Harrison blackly. "Perhaps you'd better ask him." Steve turned on his heel and walked back to his boarding-house. His arrival at the breakfast table was greeted with a chorus of exclamations. What was he doing back so soon? Had he got homesick? Had he run out of money already? He let them worm out of him that he had ridden away and forgotten his purse and that upon discovering this he had come back for the supplies of war. They joked him unmercifully, even Daisy,--who was manifestly incredulous about his explanation,--and he accepted their hilarious repartee with the proper amount of sheepish resentment. After the meal was over he lingered to see Ruth, who had just sat down to eat. "Can I see you alone, Miss Ruth?" She flashed a quick look at him, doubtful and apprehensive. "In the pergola, almost right away." The girl reached the vine-draped entrance of the pergola shortly after Yeager. Manifestly her fears had been growing in the interval since he had left her. "What is it?" And swift on the heels of that, "Is it about Phil?" "Yes." "He's in trouble ... again?" she breathed. He nodded assent. "The boy's out in the pasture. He wants you to send him breakfast." The dread that was always lying banked in the hearts of herself and her mother found voice. "What has he done now?" The range-rider chose his words carefully. "There was some trouble--just across the border. He had to shoot ... and a man fell." Her face mirrored terror. "You mean ... dead?" "I don't know," he answered gravely. "Tell me all about it, please,--the circumstances, everything." "He will tell you himself. I'll just say this--the shooting was forced on him. He fired in self-defense." She wrung her hands. "I knew ... I knew something dreadful would happen. Mr. Harrison promised me--he said he would look out for Phil." Steve looked her straight in the eyes. "Harrison's a crook. He's been using your love for Phil as a lever. It's up to you and the boy to shake him off." A swift, upblazing anger leaped to her face. "How dare you say that! How dare you!"