As the days passed, it became plain to Ruth, as it did to everyone else on the ranch--Chavis, Pickett, and Masten included--that Vickers had not talked extravagantly in recommending Randerson. Uncle Jepson declared that "he took right a-hold," and Aunt Martha beamed proudly upon him whenever he came within range of her vision. There was no hitch; he did his work smoothly. The spring round-up was carried to a swift conclusion, the calves were branded and turned loose again to roam the range during the summer; the corral fences were repaired, new irrigation ditches were laid, others extended--the numerous details received the attention they merited, and when summer came in earnest, the Flying W was spick and span and prospering. Chavis and Pickett still retained their old positions, but Ruth noticed that they did not spend so much of their time around the bunkhouse as formerly, they seemed to have work enough to keep their time fully employed. Nor did Masten accompany them very often. He seemed to take a new interest in Ruth; he found various pretexts to be near her, and Ruth secretly congratulated herself on her wisdom in securing her new range boss. She had scarcely expected such amazing results. She was conscious of a vague disappointment, though. For she would have liked to see more of her range boss. Twice, under pretense of wanting to look over the property, she had accompanied him to outlying cow camps, and she had noted that the men seemed to like him--they called him "Rex," and in other ways exhibited their satisfaction over his coming. Several times she had observed meetings between him and Chavis and Pickett; invariably Chavis was sullen and disagreeable in his presence, and a number of times she had seen Pickett sneer when Randerson's back was turned. No one had told her of the open enmity that existed between Pickett and Randerson; the latter had not hinted of it. And Randerson was at the ranchhouse even less frequently than his predecessor; he spent much of his time with the outfit. But he came in one afternoon, after Ruth's friendship with Hagar Catherson had progressed far, and met the nester's daughter on the porch as he was about to enter the house. By ingenious artifice and persuasion Ruth had induced the girl to accept for her own many of the various garments in the alluring trunk, and Ruth herself had been surprised at the wonderful transformation in her appearance when arrayed in them. Hagar was attired this afternoon in a dark-blue riding habit, with short skirt--shortened by Aunt Martha--riding boots, a waist with a low collar and a flowing tie, and a soft hat that Ruth had re-made for her. She had received lessons in hair-dressing, and her brown, wavy tresses were just obstinate enough, through long neglect, to refuse to yield fully to the influence of comb and brush; they bulged under the brim of the soft hat, and some stray wisps persisted in blowing over her face.