Miss Torrance sat very still, one hand on the switch, and another on the bridle, looking at him with a little scornful smile on her lips. Then she glanced at the prairie beyond the severed fence. "That land belongs to my friends," she said. Grant's face grew a trifle wistful, but his voice was grave. "They have had the use of it, but it belongs to the United States, and other people have the right to farm there now. Still, that needn't make any trouble between you and me." "No?" said the girl, with a curious hardness in her inflection; but her face softened suddenly. "Larry, while you only talked we didn't mind; but no one fancied you would have done this. Yes, I'm angry with you. I have been home 'most a month, and you never rode over to see me; while now you want to talk politics." Grant smiled a trifle wearily. "I would sooner talk about anything else; and if you ask him, your father will tell you why I have not been to the range. I don't want to make you angry, Hetty." "Then you will give up this foolishness and make friends with us again," said the girl, very graciously. "It can't come to anything, Larry, and you are one of us. You couldn't want to take away our land and give it to this rabble?" Hetty was wholly bewitching, as even Flora Schuyler, who fancied she understood the grimness in the man's face, felt just then. He, however, looked away across the prairie, and the movement had its significance to one of the company, who, having less at stake, was the more observant. When he turned again, however, he seemed to stand very straight. "I'm afraid I can't," he said. "No?" said Hetty, still graciously. "Not even when I ask you?" Grant shook his head. "They have my word, and you wouldn't like me to go back upon what I feel is right," he said. Hetty laughed. "If you will think a little, you can't help seeing that you are very wrong." Again the little weary smile crept into Grant's face. "One naturally thinks a good deal before starting in with this kind of thing, and I have to go through. I can't stop now, even to please you. But can't we still be friends?" For a moment there was astonishment in the girl's face, then it flushed, and as her lips hardened and every line in her slight figure seemed to grow rigid, she reminded Miss Schuyler of the autocrat of Cedar Range. "You ask me that?" she said. "You, an American, turning Dutchmen and these bush-choppers loose upon the people you belong to. Can't you see what the answer must be?" Grant did apparently, for he mutely bent his head; but there was a shout just then, and when one of the vedettes on the skyline suddenly moved forward he seized Miss Torrance's bridle and wheeled her horse. "Ride back to the Range," he said sharply, "as straight as you can. Tell your father that you met me. Let your horse go, Miss Schuyler."