On the day he reached this decision his brother returned from Golden looking dejected. "They've quarrelled," was Curtis's inward comment. He said nothing, nor did Homer mention Lucy's name, contrary to his custom of talking much about her after a day in her society. He was also less talkative than usual upon other subjects. During the evening, while Curtis read, Homer sat by the open door and smoked in gloomy silence, listening to the pouring rain and the rolling and echoing thunder. He was wondering, half in lover's anger and half in lover's downheartedness, why Lucy had been so unreasonable that day, and why she had acted as if she did not care whether he came or stayed away. Well, he would not trouble her with his company again very soon. He and Pendleton had been talking about a camping and hunting trip in the Mogollon Mountains, and he would see if they couldn't get up the party and go at once. The next morning a sky of pure, deep, brilliant blue shone over a freshening, greening plain. Homer rose from the breakfast table and walked out into the corral, throwing back his shoulders and breathing deeply of the dry, cool, exhilarating air. It seemed a different world from that of yesterday. There was no hurry about the camping trip, after all. "I think I'll ride over to Golden," he said to his brother, "and see if that storm last night did much damage. It looked black in the mountains when I was coming home in the afternoon, and a bad flood may have come down the ravine." Curtis smiled quizzically. A certain eager masterfulness in the young man's air brought to his mind conviction of the real purport of his brother's errand, and he felt no doubt of its result. "A good idea," he assented. "It was a bad storm and may have done a lot of harm. But I'll have to use Brown Betty myself to-day. You can have your pick of the others." He stood by and called out, "Good luck, old fellow!" as Homer mounted his horse, and laughed and swung his sombrero as the other turned away a blushing face. Curtis gazed after him, a swift vision filling his mind of the look that countenance would wear when he returned to tell him proudly that he had won Lucy's promise to be his wife. "And by that time I'm going to know who Delafield is," he thought, his lips compressed, as he turned quickly into the corral. "José," he called, "I want you to go to Adobe Springs this morning and see if any of the cattle are mired in the overflow from the storm last night. Then deepen the outlet so the water will all be carried away. You'd better start at once. I'll come after you in about half an hour and show you about digging out the outlet." As Gonzalez mounted his horse at the corral gate he looked back and saw Conrad standing beside his mare, making her hunt through his pockets for sugar. "A brave man is Don Curtis," his thoughts ran. "He is so brave it does not seem right that he must die. But--" and he shrugged his shoulders with the air of one who says, "What would you?"