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The girl flushed with pleasure at his praise. She was mountain

bred, and she loved the country of the great peaks.

They descended the valley, crossed the road, and in an open

grassy spot just beyond, came plump upon four men who had

unsaddled to eat lunch.

The meeting came too abruptly for Arlie to avoid it. One glance

told her that they were deputies from Gimlet Butte. Without the

least hesitation she rode forward and gave them the casual

greeting of cattleland. Fraser, riding beside her, nodded coolly,

drew to a halt, and lit a cigarette.

"Found him yet, gentlemen?" he asked.

"No, nor we ain't likely to, if he's reached this far," one of

the men answered.

"It would be some difficult to collect him here," the Texan

admitted impartially.

"Among his friends," one of the deputies put in, with a snarl.

Fraser laughed easily. "Oh, well, we ain't his enemies, though he

ain't very well known in the Cedar Mountain country. What might

he be like, pardner?"