"I reckon I've handed it to you pretty bad," said Randerson. "But you had it comin' to you. If you hadn't tried to play the skunk at the last minute, you'd have got off easier. I reckon your hand ain't so active as it's been--I had to pretty near stamp it off of you--you would keep pullin' the trigger of that pop-gun. Do you reckon you c'n get up now, an' get on your horse?" Masten felt himself lifted; he did not resist. Then he felt the saddle under him; he made an effort and steadied himself. Then, still only half conscious he rode, reeling in the saddle, toward a light that he saw in the distance, which, he dimly felt, must come from the Flying W ranchhouse. CHAPTER XIV THE ROCK AND THE MOONLIGHT Randerson did not leave the scene of the fight immediately. He stood for a long time, after buckling on his belt and pistols, looking meditatively toward the break in the canyon beyond which was Catherson's shack. "Did the dresses have anything to do with it?" he asked himself, standing there in the darkness. "New dresses might have--puttin' foolish notions in her head. But I reckon the man--" He laughed grimly. He had thought it all over before, back there on the path when he had been talking to Masten and Hagar. He reflected again on it now. "Lookin' it square in the face, it's human nature. We'll allow that. We'll say a man has feelin's. But a man ought to have sense, too--or he ain't a man. If Masten was a boy, now, not realizin', there'd be excuses. But he's wised up.... If his intentions had been honorable--but he's engaged to Ruth, an' they couldn't. I reckon he'll pull his freight now. Catherson would sure muss him up some." He mounted his pony and rode toward the Flying W ranchhouse. Halfway there he passed Masten. The moon had risen; by its light he could see the Easterner, who had halted his horse and was standing beside it, watching him. Randerson paid no heed to him. "Thinkin' it over, I reckon," he decided, as he rode on. Looking back, when he reached the house, he saw that Masten was still standing beside his horse. At the sound of hoof beats, Uncle Jepson came out on the porch and peered at the rider. Randerson could see Aunt Martha close behind him. Uncle Jepson was excited. He started off the porch toward Randerson. "It's Randerson, mother!" he called shrilly back to Aunt Martha, who was now on the porch. In a brief time Randerson learned that Ruth had gone riding--alone--about noon, and had not returned. Randerson also discovered that the girl had questioned a puncher who had ridden in--asking him about Chavis' shack and the basin. Randerson's face, red from the blows that had landed on it, paled quickly. "I reckon she's takin' her time about comin' in," he said. "Mebbe her cayuse has broke a leg--or somethin'." He grinned at Uncle Jepson. "I expect there ain't nothin' to worry about. I'll go look for her."