Besides, one ranger or a company of rangers could not have held the undivided attention of these men from their games and drinks and quarrels except by some decided move. Excitement, greed, appetite were rife in them. Duane marked, however, a striking exception to the usual run of strangers he had been in the habit of seeing. Snecker had gone or was under cover. Again Duane caught a vague rumor of the coming of Poggin, yet he never seemed to arrive. Moreover, the goings-on among the habitues of the resorts and the cowboys who came in to drink and gamble were unusually mild in comparison with former conduct. This lull, however, did not deceive Duane. It could not last. The wonder was that it had lasted so long. Duane went often to see Mrs. Laramie and her children. One afternoon while he was there he saw Miss Longstreth and Ruth ride up to the door. They carried a basket. Evidently they had heard of Mrs. Laramie's trouble. Duane felt strangely glad, but he went into an adjoining room rather than meet them. “Mrs. Laramie, I've come to see you,” said Miss Longstreth, cheerfully. The little room was not very light, there being only one window and the doors, but Duane could see plainly enough. Mrs. Laramie lay, hollow-checked and haggard, on a bed. Once she had evidently been a woman of some comeliness. The ravages of trouble and grief were there to read in her worn face; it had not, however, any of the hard and bitter lines that had characterized her husband's. Duane wondered, considering that Longstreth had ruined Laramie, how Mrs. Laramie was going to regard the daughter of an enemy. “So you're Granger Longstreth's girl?” queried the woman, with her bright, black eyes fixed on her visitor. “Yes,” replied Miss Longstreth, simply. “This is my cousin, Ruth Herbert. We've come to nurse you, take care of the children, help you in any way you'll let us.” There was a long silence. “Well, you look a little like Longstreth,” finally said Mrs. Laramie, “but you're not at ALL like him. You must take after your mother. Miss Longstreth, I don't know if I can--if I ought accept anything from you. Your father ruined my husband.” “Yes, I know,” replied the girl, sadly. “That's all the more reason you should let me help you. Pray don't refuse. It will--mean so much to me.”