Ruth always had been a favourite of Flanders’s. It pleased him that he could help her in her affairs, and it flattered him to think that he could help her make a success of the Circle Diamond. The conspiracy she proposed intrigued his interest. She had some money. Why not use it to save the ranch for Rowan? Why not let her have the pleasure of showing her husband later how well she had done in his absence? It would give a zest to her life that would otherwise be lacking. Moreover, it would be another tie to bind her to McCoy. He yielded to the temptation, fell into her plans, grew eager over them. There was a good deal of sympathy for her in the country, so that she had little difficulty in securing a permit for her cattle to range on the reserve at the usual price. In a letter, Ruth wrote her husband that Flanders thought it better not to sell out just yet, but she gave no details of what she was doing in a business way. She left him to gather that they were watching their chance to get a good figure for the place. There was, she felt, no use worrying him about the venture she was making. Her interest in the ranch developed amazingly. Jennings was an experienced cattleman and devoted to Rowan. It had been his curt opinion that McCoy was a fool for marrying this feather-footed girl from the East. Her gaiety and extravagance had annoyed him. The flirtation with Silcott had set him flatly against her. But now he began to revise his estimate. He liked the eagerness with which she flung herself into this exciting game of saving the Circle Diamond. He liked the deference she paid his judgment, and he admired the courage with which once or twice she decided flatly against him. “Dinged if she ain’t got more sense than half the men you meet!” chuckled the foreman on one occasion when her verdict had proved more discriminating than his advice. “The little boss done right not to take that Cheyenne bid for the dogies.” He did not know that it was really Flanders who was responsible for vetoing the sale. There were hours, of course, when the loneliness of her life swept over Ruth in waves, when she fought desperately for a footing against despair. It was her inheritance to tread the hilltops or the valleys rather than the dusty road. But in general she was almost happy. A warm glow flushed her being when she thought of Rowan. Some sure voice whispered to her that however long he might be kept from her the flame of love would burn bright in his heart.