Cole lifted an unsteady hand to scratch his mustache, eyed the animal furtively and glanced at Hepburn. As their eyes met Hepburn's head moved in slight, quick negation. Ever so slight, ever so quick, but Jane Hunter saw and Hepburn saw that she saw and a guilty flush whipped into his face, spreading clear to the eyes. "Hasn't someone been working over my brand?" she demanded, forcing Cole to look at her again. "I don't know ... I dunno nothin' about it...." She breathed deeply and moved a step backward. "How do you suppose these calves come to be here? My calves, with your brand on them?" "Them is my calves, ma'am," he protested, weakly, "Them is old brands." "Oh, all but this yearling belong to you?" "Yes,"--nodding his head as his confidence rallied. "Them's all mine. I branded 'em myself." "And why do you keep them here?" "Well, there's water an' feed an' I wanted to wean 'em--" "And a moment ago you said you knew nothing about this pen?" A flicker of confusion crossed the man's face and again he looked away toward Hepburn in mute appeal. Hepburn's face reflected a contempt, a wrath, and for a fraction of time Jane studied it intently, a quick hope forming in her breast. She lifted a hand to touch, in unconscious caress, the locket which was at her throat. "Look at me, Cole!" she cried and her body trembled. Her tone was compelling, she experienced a sensation of mounting power, felt that she was dominating and without looking she knew that the men before her stirred, impressed by her rising confidence. "Look at me and answer my questions!" Hesitatingly the man looked back and then dropped his eyes. "Well, I said I knew it was here." "You knew more than that. You have been using it. How long ago was it built?" "A month--Oh, I dunno--" "What about a month?" she insisted, gesturing bruskly. "What about a month?" "I dunno." She relaxed a trifle again and eyed the confused, visibly agitated man. For a breath the place was in utter silence. The gloom deepened; the wind held off. It was as though the crisis were at hand.... And just then the man at the foot of the trail across the flat put down his rifle and said with a short laugh: "I didn't make you out, Tom." * * * * * When Jane spoke again it was in an easier tone. "How did you happen to come to this country, Cole?" He looked up, relief showing in his face as she abandoned the other line of questioning. Hepburn stirred and Webb lifted a hand to hook his thumb in his belt. "Why, I heered about this place. Good feed an' water an' a place to settle. So I just come; that's all." "How did you hear about it?" "A feller told me." "Who?" "I dunno his name. I--" "How many cows have you?" Her voice was suddenly sharp and hard as she cut in on his impotent evasion and shifted her subject again. "Why, 'bout twenty." "And how many calves are with them?" He seemed to calculate, but she insisted, leaning closer to him: "How many calves?"