"Yes--shooting!" she said, "the minute he saw them he dropped down and emptied his Winchester. And him a dirty sheepman, with nothing but Mexicans, and these boys all claim they're from _Texas_. I'd just like to know what we've been paying them for if it isn't to stand up and fight; but they turned tail and ran and I'm going to tell Isham that he ought to fire them--all!" "Oh, I don't know," murmured Meshackatee, glancing at the shamefaced cowboys, "you'd jest have to hire some more. What's the chances for something to eat?" "You can eat with the rest of them," she answered impatiently, "and not a minute before. Now you worthless cowboys go away from that kitchen and quit making eyes at the cook. And if you want to hurry supper somebody take the ax and chop up a little wood." There was a rush for the ax and the cowboys slouched away, laughing hectoringly at the man who had won. "Well, git down," said Mrs. Scarborough with a grudging sigh, "that makes fourteen men we're cooking for." They dismounted stiffly and she drew Meshackatee aside, talking rapidly as he inclined his curly head; and then, as Hall stood awkwardly by, a girl hurried out the kitchen door. In one hand was a huge bucket and she had started for the well when she met the newcomer's startled eyes. For a moment she stood still, then the bucket fell clattering and was clutched up with a trembling hand. "Let me help you!" said Hall, raising his hat and advancing swiftly; and while Meshackatee looked on he filled the bucket with practiced hand and carried it back to the kitchen. There was a murmur of disapproval from the gunmen by the bunkhouse as he did not emerge immediately, and Mrs. Scarborough glanced around suspiciously; but he returned to his horse without meeting her eyes and Meshackatee grinned to himself. The kitchen was forbidden ground at the ranch, hence the rush to chop and bring in the wood; but this stranger had shown himself adept indeed at invading the _sanctum sanctorum_. He had met Mrs. Scarborough's niece, and filled her bucket and whisked it back into the house, in about the time it would take a Texan to spit out his chew of tobacco. But that dropping of the bucket--was Miss Allifair so flustered, or had it been done with a purpose? He listened gravely to Miz Zoolah as she asked him questions and then guessed at the answers herself, but all the while his keen eyes were on Hall and his mind was seeking out the cause. For there is a reason for everything, if one can piece facts together or even jump at the facts, and Meshackatee was by nature a casuist. But something of the furor that was going on in his mind seemed to be communicated to the vigilant Miz Zoolah, for she stopped in the middle of a spiteful tirade and turned her pale eyes on the stranger. "Who is that man?" she demanded suddenly, and then she advanced and faced him. "Haven't I seen you before somewhere?" she questioned sharply, and Hall seemed to rouse from some dream.