He looked his pleasure, as he clasped her hand in hearty understanding of the friendship offered. "Thank you, Miss Reid. I still maintain that the Dean's judgment is unquestionable." She was not at all displeased with his reply. "By the way," she said, as if to prove her friendship. "I suppose you know what to expect from Uncle Will and the boys when they learn of your little adventure?" "I do," he answered, as if resigned to anything. "And do you enjoy making fun for them?" "I assure you, Miss Reid, I am very human." "Well, then, why don't you turn the laugh on them?" "But how?" "They are expecting you to get into some sort of a scrape, don't you think?" "They are always expecting that. And," he added, with that droll touch in his voice, "I must say I rarely disappoint them." "I suspect," she continued, thoughtfully, "that the Dean purposely did not explain that drift fence to you." "He has established precedents that would justify my thinking so, I'll admit." "Well, then, why don't you ride cheerfully home and report the progress of your work as though nothing had happened?" "You mean that you won't tell?" he cried. She nodded gaily. "I told them this afternoon that it wasn't fair for you to have no one but Stella on your side." "What a good Samaritan you are! You put me under an everlasting obligation to you." "All right," she laughed. "I'm glad you feel that way about it. I shall hold that debt against you until some day when I am in dreadful need, and then I shall demand payment in full. Good-by!" And once again Kitty had spoken, in jest, words that held for them both, had they but known, great significance. Patches watched until she was out of sight. Then he made his way happily to the house to receive, with a guilty conscience but with a light heart, congratulations and compliments upon his safe return. That evening Phil disappeared somewhere, in the twilight. And a little later Jim Reid rode into the Cross-Triangle dooryard. The owner of the Pot-Hook-S was a big man, tall and heavy, outspoken and somewhat gruff, with a manner that to strangers often seemed near to overbearing. When Patches was introduced, the big cattleman looked him over suspiciously, spoke a short word in response to Patches' commonplace, and abruptly turned his back to converse with the better-known members of the household. For an hour, perhaps, they chatted about matters of general interest, as neighbors will; then the caller arose to go, and the Dean walked with him to his horse. When the two men were out of hearing of the people on the porch Reid asked in a low voice, "Noticed any stock that didn't look right lately, Will?" "No. You see, we haven't been ridin' scarcely any since the Fourth. Phil and the boys have been busy with the horses every day, an' this new man don't count, you know." "Who is he, anyway?" asked Reid bluntly. "I don't know any more than that he says his name is Patches." "Funny name," grunted Jim.