"Then I suppose we shall see Shan Rhue one of these days. Ted, I'm afraid of that fellow. When they had me in the Hole in the Wall I heard him make the most horrible threats against you." "Threats don't hurt, Stella. The threatened man lives long. You know the old proverb: 'The man I most fear is he who says nothing, but smiles in your face while he is planning to stab you in the back.'" They were turned toward the ranch house, and as darkness was falling swiftly, conversation was suspended as they put their ponies to their highest speed, galloping across the snow-covered range toward where they could see the lantern of the house shining like a beacon through the gloom. For the safety of the boys and the cow-punchers traveling toward the ranch house in the dark, Ted had placed a large lantern on the top of the flagstaff which stood in the front yard, so that it could be seen for miles at night to guide wanderers. This had been suggested by his experience the first night they had spent at the house. Those of the boys who were not riding line were stopping at the house, and they were all in the big living room awaiting the coming of Ted and Stella. When Stella was late in arriving at the house, Mrs. Graham began to grow anxious and worried, and this was communicated to the others. But when they heard Ted's ringing yell outside, as he and Stella galloped up, there were shouts of gladness inside, and the big door was thrown open, allowing a broad path of light to fall across the prairie, as two cow-punchers came bounding down the steps to take the ponies to the corral. After supper Ted told of the maiming of the cattle and the death of Sol Flatbush. It was part of the life at the ranch that bad news of any sort was never told at the table during meals, and if any of the fellows had a grievance or was in trouble he tried to keep that fact out of his face and look as merry as he could while the others were eating. If he wanted to tell his troubles later, and any one was willing to listen, all right and good, but mealtime was glad time where the broncho boys and their friends sat down together. While they were sitting before the great fireplace after supper, Clay Whipple was looking into the flames with a preoccupied air. He had been silent all evening, an unusual thing for him, for usually he injected humorously dry comments into general conversations. "What's the trouble, Clay?" asked Stella, who was always the first to notice when one of the boys was not his usual self. "Oh, I don't know," said Clay uneasily. "Reckon he's worryin' some on account o' this yere mountain bandit bein' ther same name as him," laughed a cow-puncher named "Pike" Bander. "I reckon you're only joshin', Pike," said Clay quietly, but growing a shade paler. "Why, shore, Clay. Yer didn't think I wuz in earnest?" Pike hastened to say.