Masten looked jealously at her. "Looked at you, eh?" he said. "Are you sure he didn't try to do anything else--didn't _do_ anything else? Like kissing you, for instance?" "I'm certain sure," she replied, looking straight at him. "He used to kiss me. But he says I'm a woman, now, an' it wouldn't be square to kiss me any more." Her eyes had drooped from his. "An' I reckon that's right, too, ain't it?" She looked up again, not receiving an answer. "Why, how red your face is!" she exclaimed. "I ain't said nothin' to hurt you, have I?" "No," he said. But he held her tightly to him, her head on his shoulder, so that she might not see the guilt in his eyes. CHAPTER X THE LAW OF THE PRIMITIVE Randerson continued his policy of not forcing himself upon Ruth. He went his way, silent, thoughtful, attending strictly to business. To Ruth, watching him when he least suspected it, it seemed that he had grown more grim and stern-looking since his coming to the Flying W. She saw him, sometimes, laughing quietly with Uncle Jepson; other times she heard him talking gently to Aunt Martha--with an expression that set her to wondering whether he were the same man that she had seen that day with the pistol in hand, shooting the life out of a fellow being. There were times when she wavered in her conviction of his heartlessness. Since Ruth had announced her decision not to marry Masten until after the fall round-up, she had not seen so much of him. He rode alone, sometimes not even asking her to accompany him. These omissions worked no great hardship on her, for the days had grown hot and the plains dry and dusty, so that there was not so much enjoyment in riding as formerly. Besides, she knew the country rather well now, and had no need to depend upon Masten. Chavis had severed his connection with the Flying W. He had ridden in to the ranchhouse some weeks ago, found Ruth sitting on the porch, announced that he was "quittin'" and wanted his "time." She did not ask him why he wanted to quit so pleased was she with his decision, but he advanced an explanation while she counted the money due him. "Things don't suit me here," he said venomously. "Randerson is too fresh." He looked at her impudently. "Besides," he added, "he stands in too well with the boss." She flushed with indignation. "You wouldn't dare say that to _him_!" she declared. He reddened darkly. "Meanin' what he done to Pickett, I reckon," he sneered. "Well, Randerson will be gettin' his'n some day, too!" Ruth remembered this conversation, and on a day about a month later when she had gone riding alone, she saw Randerson at a distance and rode toward him to tell him, for she had meant to, many times.