“I dunno what that’s got to do with gettin’ drug sixteen mile,” said Sundown.  “But, anyhow, you’re right.”

CHAPTER XIV

ON THE TRAIL TO THE BLUE

In the shade of the forest that edged the mesa, and just back of Fernando’s camp, a Ranger trail cuts through a patch of quaking-asp and meanders through the heavy-timbered land toward the Blue range, a spruce-clad ridge of southern hills.  Close to the trail two saddle horses were tied.

Fadeaway, riding toward his home ranch on the “Blue,” reined up, eyed the horses, and grinned.  One of them was Chinook, the other Eleanor Loring’s black-and-white pinto, Challenge.  The cowboy bent in his saddle and peered through the aspens toward the sheep-camp.  He saw Corliss and Nell Loring standing close together, evidently discussing something of more than usual import, for at that moment John Corliss had raised his broad Stetson as though bidding farewell to the girl, but she had caught his arm as he turned and was clinging to him.  Her attitude was that of one supplicating, coaxing, imploring.  Fadeaway, with a vicious twist to his mouth, spat.  “The cattle business and the sheep business looks like they was goin’ into partnership,” he muttered.  “Leave it to a woman to fool a man every time.  And him pertendin’ to be all for the long-horns!” He saw the girl turn from Corliss, bury her face in her arms, and lean against the tree beneath which they were standing.  Fadeaway grinned.  “Women are all crooked, when they want to be,” he remarked,—­“or any I ever knowed.  If they can’t work a guy by talkin’ and lovin’, then they take to cryin’.”

Just then Corliss stepped to the girl and put his hand on her shoulder.  Again she turned to him.  He took her hands and held them while he talked.  Fadeaway could see her lips move, evidently in reply.  He could not hear what was being said, as his horse was restless, fretting and stamping.  The saddle creaked.  Fadeaway jerked the horse up, and in the momentary silence he caught the word “love.”

“Makes me sick!” he said, spurring forward. “‘Love,’ eh?  Well, mebby my little idea of puttin’ Billy Corliss in wrong didn’t work, but I’ll hand Jack a jolt that’ll make him think of somethin’ else besides love, one of these fine mornin’s!” And the cowboy rode on, out of tune with the peace and beauty of his surroundings, his whole being centered upon making trouble for a man who he knew in his heart wished him no ill, and in fact had all but forgotten him so far as considering him either as an enemy or a friend.