Fresno held up his finger for Allen's inspection. "I've been greasin' the wagon," was his explanation. "Git out with the rest of them," she commanded. "I've got enough to do to look after that cake." Mrs. Allen darted into the kitchen. Jim slowly filled his pipe and hunted up the most comfortable chair. After two or three trials he found one to suit him, and sank back with a sigh of content. "Jack ain't back yet?" Polly put the question. Polly rearranged the chairs in the room, picking up and replacing the articles on the table to suit her own artistic conceptions. She straightened out a war-bonnet on the wall. She was flicking off a spot of dust in the gilt chair that Jack had got as a wedding present for Echo on the day of the station-agent's murder, and, being reminded of the tragedy, she asked: "That posse didn't catch the parties that killed Terrill, did they?" "Not that I hear on. Slim Hoover he took the boys that night an tried to pick up the trail after it entered the river, but they couldn't find where it come out." "One of them fellers, the man that left the station alone, and probably done the job, rode a pacin' horse," answered Jim, between puffs of his pipe. "Then he's a stranger to these parts. Jack's pinto paces--it's his regular gait. It's the only pacing hoss around here." "That's so," he assented, but made no further comment. The full force of the observation did not strike him at the time. Polly began to pump Colonel Jim. There were several recent happenings which she did not fully comprehend. At the inquisitive age and a girl, she wanted to know all that was going on. "Jack's been acting mighty queer of late," she ventured. "Like he's got something on his mind." Jim smiled at her simplicity and jokingly replied: "Well, he's married." The retort exasperated Polly. She was not meeting with the success she desired. "Do hush!" she cried, in her annoyance. "That's enough on any man's mind," Jim laughed as he sauntered out of the door. "Something queer about Jack," observed Polly, seating herself at the table. "He ain't been the same man since the weddin'. He's all right when Echo's around, but when he thinks no one is watchin' him he sits around and sighs." Jack entered the room at this moment. Absent-mindedly he hung his hat and spurs on a rack and leaned his rifle against the wall, sighing deeply as he did so. So engrossed was he in his thoughts that he did not notice Polly until he reached the table. He started in surprise when he saw her. "Hello, Polly!" was his greeting. "Where is Echo?" Polly rose hastily at the sound of his voice. "Didn't you meet her?" she asked. "We got her to ride over toward Tucson this morning to get her out of the way so's to snake the pianny in without her seein' it." Polly glided over to the instrument and touched the keys softly. With admiration Jack gazed at the instrument. "I came around by Florence," answered Jack, with a smile.