“Not unless he’s tired of living,” returned her foreman, darkly. “One thing, this country won’t stand for is that. He’s got to keep his hands off women or he loses out. He dassent lay a hand on them if they don’t want him to. That’s the law of the plains, isn’t it?” “That’s the unwritten law for the bad man, but I notice it doesn’t seem to satisfy y’u, my friend. Y’u and I know that my cousin, Ned Bannister, doesn’t acknowledge any law, written or unwritten. He’s a devil and he has no fear. Didn’t he kidnap her before?” “He surely would never dare touch those young ladies. But—I don’t know. Bann, I guess we better roll along toward the Lazy D country, after all.” “I think so.” Ned looked at his friend with smiling drollery. “I thought y’u smoked your troubles away, Jim. This one seems to worry y’u.” McWilliams grinned sheepishly. “There’s one trouble won’t be smoked away. It kinder dwells.” Then, apparently apropos of nothing, he added, irrelevantly: “Wonder what Denver’s doing right now?” “Probably keeping that appointment y’u ran away from,” bantered his friend. “I’ll bet he is. Funny how some men have all the luck,” murmured the despondent foreman. CHAPTER XVI. HUNTING BIG GAME In point of fact, Denver’s occupation at that moment was precisely what they had guessed it to be. He was sitting beside Nora Darling in the grand stand, explaining to her the fine points of “roping.” Mr. Bob Austin, commonly known as “Texas,” was meanwhile trying to make himself agreeable to Helen Messiter. Truth to tell, both young women listened with divided interest to their admirers. Both of them had heard the story of the night, and each of them had tucked away in her corsage a scribbled note she wanted to get back to her room and read again. That the pursuit was still on everybody knew, and those on the inside were aware that the “King,” masquerading under the name of Jack Holloway, was the active power behind the sheriff stimulating the chase. It was after the roping had begun, and Austin had been called away to take his turn, that the outlaw chief sauntered along the aisle of the grand stand to the box in which was seated the mistress of the Lazy D. “Beautiful mo’ning, isn’t it? Delightfully crisp and clear,” he said by way of introduction, stopping at her box. She understood the subtle jeer in his manner, and her fine courage rose to meet it. There was a daring light in her eye, a buoyant challenge in her voice as she answered: “It is a splendid morning. I’m not surprised you are enjoying it.” “Did I say I was enjoying it?” He laughed as he lifted the bar, came into her box and took a seat. “Of course not. How careless of me! I had forgotten you were in mourning for a deceased friend.” His dark eyes flashed. “I’ll not mourn for him long. He was a mighty trifling fellow, anyhow. Soon as I catch and hang his murderers I’ll quit wearing black.” “You may wear out several suits before then,” she hit back.