"Oh, yes," Hetty agreed. "Still, I'm beginning to fancy you were right about that man. Like a good many more of them, he's quite nice at a distance; but there are men who should never let anyone get too close to them." "You have had quite a few opportunities of observing him at a short distance lately." Hetty laughed, but there was a trace of uneasiness in her voice. "I could wish my father didn't seem quite so fond of him. Oh--there's somebody coming!" Instinctively she wheeled her horse into the deeper shadow of the birches and Miss Schuyler followed. There was no habitation within a league of them, and though the frost, which put a period to the homesteaders' activities, lessened the necessity for the cattle-barons' watchfulness, unpleasant results had once or twice attended a chance encounter between their partisans. It was also certain that somebody was coming, and Hetty felt her heart beat as she made out the tramp of three horses. The vultures the struggle had attracted had, she knew, much less consideration for women than the homesteaders or cattle-boys. "Hadn't we better ride on?" asked Miss Schuyler. "No," said Hetty; "they would most certainly see us out on the prairie. Back your horse quite close to mine. If we keep quiet they might pass us here." Her voice betrayed what she was feeling, and Flora Schuyler felt unpleasantly apprehensive as she urged her horse farther into the gloom. The trampling came nearer, and by and by a man's voice reached her. "Hadn't you better pull up and get down?" it said. "I'm not much use at tracking, but somebody has been along here a little while ago. You see, there are only three of us!" "They're homesteaders, and they've found our trail," exclaimed Hetty, with a little gasp of dismay. There was scarcely an opening one could ride through between the birches behind them, and it was evident that the horsemen could scarcely fail to see them the moment they left their shelter. One of them had already dismounted, and was apparently stooping beside the prints the horse-hoofs had left where a little snow had sifted down upon the trail. Hetty heard his laugh, and it brought her a great relief. "I don't think you need worry, Breckenridge. There were only two of them." Hetty wheeled her horse. "It's Larry," she said. A minute later he saw them, and, pulling up, took off his hat; but Flora Schuyler noticed that he ventured on no more than this. "It is late for you to be out alone. You are riding home?" he said. "Of course!" said Hetty with, Miss Schuyler fancied, a chilliness which contrasted curiously with the relief she had shown a minute or two earlier.