silently looking after them now as they rode on in the whitening moonlight.
"Well, he's ridin' safe, anyway," said Dan.
"But how about her?" Fred wanted to know. "Well, if she was my girl, or if I was a young feller that maybe's held her hand and kissed her a time or two, I wouldn't let her ride a mile in that man's company—not for all the gold of Gopher!"
"We'd better go on to the ranch," said Barrett, a little crossly. "She can take care of herself."
They rode on. The buildings of the ranch were in sight, the cedars by the roadside a dark line denying the trespass of the desert. Dan was the first to speak, breaking a long silence. He burst out suddenly, one hand on the high cantle of his Mexican saddle, to look back along the white road, upon which the two riders long since had disappeared.
"I'd give a purty if they went to Bonita and Cattle Kate saw 'em!" he said.
There was an eagerness in his voice as of a hope expressed with all the fervency of his heart.
"Shucks!" said Fred Grubb, covering whatever his sentiments were in that rather meaningless word.
