Such events had happened before in Texas and other states; but, strangely, they never happened more than once in one locality.  They were expressions, perhaps, that could never come but once.

I watched Steele through all that hideous din, that manifestation of insane rage at his life and joy at his death, and when silence once more reigned and he turned his white face to mine, I had a sensation of dread.  And dread was something particularly foreign to my nature.

“So Blome and the Sneckers think they’ve done for me,” he muttered.

“Pleasant surprise for them to-morrow, eh, old man?” I queried.

“To-morrow?  Look, Russ, what’s left of my old ’dobe house is on fire.  The ruins can’t be searched soon.  And I was particular to fix things so it’d look like I was home.  I just wanted to give them a chance.  It’s incomprehensible how easy men like them can be duped.  Whisky-soaked!  Yes, they’ll be surprised!”

He lingered a while, watching the smoldering fire and the dim columns of smoke curling up against the dark blue.  “Russ, do you suppose they heard up at the ranch and think I’m—­”

“They heard, of course,” I replied.  “But the girls know you’re safe with me.”

“Safe?  I—­I almost wish to God I was there under that heap of ruins, where the rustlers think they’ve left me.”

“Well, Steele, old fellow, come on.  We need some sleep.”  With Steele in the lead, we stalked away into the open.

Two days later, about the middle of the forenoon, I sat upon a great flat rock in the shade of a bushy mesquite, and, besides enjoying the vast, clear sweep of gold and gray plain below, I was otherwise pleasantly engaged.  Sally sat as close to me as she could get, holding to my arm as if she never intended to let go.  On the other side Miss Sampson leaned against me, and she was white and breathless, partly from the quick ride out from the ranch, partly from agitation.  She had grown thinner, and there were dark shadows under her eyes, yet she seemed only more beautiful.  The red scarf with which I had signaled the girls waved from a branch of the mesquite.  At the foot of the ridge their horses were halted in a shady spot.

“Take off your sombrero,” I said to Sally.  “You look hot.  Besides, you’re prettier with your hair flying.”  As she made no move, I took it off for her.  Then I made bold to perform the same office for Miss Sampson.  She faintly smiled her thanks.  Assuredly she had forgotten all her resentment.  There were little beads of perspiration upon her white brow.  What a beautiful mass of black-brown hair, with strands of red or gold!  Pretty soon she would be bending that exquisite head and face over poor Steele, and I, who had schemed this meeting, did not care what he might do to me.

Pretty soon, also, there was likely to be an interview that would shake us all to our depths, and naturally, I was somber at heart.  But though my outward mood of good humor may have been pretense, it certainly was a pleasure to be with the girls again way out in the open.  Both girls were quiet, and this made my task harder, and perhaps in my anxiety to ward off questions and appear happy for their own sakes I made an ass of myself with my silly talk and familiarity.  Had ever a Ranger such a job as mine?