The younger man ignored him cheerfully.  “Time to burn, Miss Sanderson.”

“You don’t want to let that spring plowing suffer,” the cattleman suggested ironically.

“That’s so.  Glad you mentioned it.  I’ll try to pick up some one to do it at the store,” returned the optimist.

“Seems to me there are a pair of us, Mr. Keller, who may not be welcome at Seven Mile.  Last time you were down there, weren’t you the guest of some willing lads who were arranging a little party for you?”

“Mr. Weaver,” reproached Phyllis, flushing.

But the reference did not embarrass the nester in the least.  He laughed hardily, meeting his rival eye to eye.  “The boys did have notions, but I expect maybe they have got over them.”

“Nothing like being hopeful.  Now I’d back my show against yours every day in the week.”

The girl handed his revolver back to Weaver, after first asking a question of the homesteader with her eyes.

“Oh, I get my hardware back, do I?” Buck grinned.

Keller brought his horse round from back of Flat Rock, where it had been picketed.  They started at once, cutting across the plain to a flat butte, which thrust itself out from the hills into the valley.  Two hours of steady travel brought them to the butte, behind which lay Seven Mile ranch.

At the first glimpse of the roofs shining in the golden sunlight Phyllis gave a cry of delight.

“Home again.  I wonder whether Father’s here.”

“I wonder,” echoed Weaver grimly.

“That little fellow riding into the corral is one of my scholars,” she told them.

“One of the fourteen that loves you, Miss Going-On-Eighteen.  My, there’ll be joy in Israel over the lost that is found.  I reckon by to-morrow you’ll be teaching the young idea how to shoot.”  He glanced down at his bandaged arm with a malicious grin.

Phyllis looked at him without speaking.  It was Keller who made application of the remark.

“There are others here beside her pupils.  Some of them are right quick and straight on the shoot, Mr. Weaver.  Now you’ve seen Miss Sanderson home, there’s still time to make your getaway without trouble.  How about hitting the trail while travelling is good, seh?”

“What’s the matter with you taking your own advice, Keller?”

“I don’t figure the need is pressing in my case.  Different with you.”

“I told you I would back my chances against yours.  Well, I’m standing pat on that.”

“The road will be open to me to-morrow.  I wonder will it be open to you then.”

“My friend, who elected you guardeen to Buck Weaver?” drawled the big man carelessly.

“I wish you would go,” Phyllis pleaded, plainly troubled over his obstinacy.

“Me, I always hated to disoblige a lady,” Buck admitted.

“Then go,” she cried eagerly.

“But I hate still more to go back on my word.  So I’ll stay.”