The door opened and Tolliver stepped in. He was rather under middle-size, dressed in down-at-the-heel boots, butternut jeans, cotton shirt, and dusty, ragged slouch hat. The grizzled beard hid the weak mouth, but the skim-milk eyes, the expression of the small-featured face, betrayed the man's lack of force. You may meet ten thousand like him west of the Mississippi. He lives in every village, up every creek, in every valley, and always he is the cat's-paw of stronger men who use him for good or ill to serve their ends. The nester stopped in his tracks. It was impossible for June to miss the dismay that found outlet in the fallen jaw and startled eyes. In the stranger's grin was triumphant malice. "You sure look glad to see me, Pete, and us such old friends too. Le's see, I ain't seen you since--since--" He stopped, as though his memory were at fault, but June sensed the hint of a threat in the uncompleted sentence. Reluctantly Tolliver took the offered hand. His consternation seemed to have stricken him dumb. "Ain't you going to introduce yore old pal to the girl?" the big man asked. Not willingly, the rancher found the necessary words. "June, meet Mr. Houck." June was putting the biscuits in the oven. She nodded an acknowledgment of the introduction. Back of the resentful eyes the girl's brain was busy. "Old side pardners, ain't we, Pete?" Houck was jeering at him almost openly. The older man mumbled what might be taken for an assent. "Branded a heap of cattle, you 'n' me. Eh, Pete?" The stranger settled deeper in the chair. "Jake Houck an' you could talk over old times all night. We was frolicsome colts." Tolliver felt his hand forced. "Put off yore hat and wash up, Jake. You'll stay to-night, o' course." "Don't mind if I do. I'm headed for Glenwood. Reckon I'd better put the horse up first." The two men left the cabin. When they returned half an hour later, the supper was on the table. June sat on the side nearest the stove and supplied the needs of the men. Coffee, hot biscuits, more venison, a second dish of gravy: no trained waiter could have anticipated their wants any better. If she was a bit sulky, she had reason for it. Houck's gaze followed her like a searchlight. It noted the dark good looks of her tousled head, the slimness of the figure which moved so awkwardly, a certain flash of spirit in the undisciplined young face. "How old's yore girl?" the man asked his host. Tolliver hesitated, trying to remember. "How old are you, June?" "Going on sixteen," she answered, eyes smouldering angrily. This man's cool, impudent appraisal of her was hateful, she felt. He laughed at her manner, easily, insolently, for he was of the type that finds pleasure in the umbrage of women annoyed by his effrontery. Of the three the guest was the only one quite at his ease. Tolliver's ingratiating jokes and the heartiness of his voice rang false. He was troubled, uncertain how to face the situation that had arisen.