About four o’clock Bryant rejoined him.

“Still lovely,” said Pat with a grin.  “I’ve just set some plows tearing up the scalp on another two hundred yards.  If this storm will just hang off for three or four days longer, it can come and welcome.  I’ll have my fresnos stacked and waiting to go down to Kennard.”

“Take a look at the northwest,” said Bryant, significantly.

A smoky haze lay along the horizon.

“Aye, I see.  That’s her hair blowing out ahead.  There will be plenty of wind after awhile, I’m thinking.  Get word to the men in camp, will you, to make all the tents tight.”

At sundown the haze in the west had thickened somewhat.  The air, however, remained warm, almost oppressive, and the sharp cold that usually fell at night was wanting.  The Ventisquero Peaks were hidden by a mass of cloud.  At seven o’clock the night crew began work, as ordinarily; no wind was stirring and the steam that came from the horses’ nostrils was light.

“I’m taking a little time to skip down to Sarita Creek and see if those girls are still there.  If they took a notion to stick, they’d try to do it, whether McDonnell sent after them or not.  But I’ll pry them out.  If the storm breaks in a hurry, get the men and teams into camp at once.  Don’t take any chances, Pat.”  Thus spoke Bryant.

“Aye, I’ve seen blizzards before,” was the reply.

Lee sped rapidly toward Sarita Creek, with the headlights of his car casting their glow before him upon the dark road.  The silence of the night was broken only by the steady humming of his engine.  The mesa seemed very hushed, unstirring, unnatural.

When he reached the girls’ cabins, he saw that the windows of each were lighted.  The girls were there.  What incredible folly!  Then his lamps brought into view an automobile.  He breathed relief.  Someone had come for them.  Alighting he walked forward and knocked on Ruth’s door.  When it was opened by Ruth, he discovered Gretzinger seated within.

“Oh, it’s you, is it?  Well, come in,” Ruth said.

She wore a pink party gown, with her throat and smooth, round arms showing through some filmy stuff that was part of the creation.  Bryant had never seen her so dressed; she looked very youthful and charming, almost beautiful.

“There’s a party at Kennard to-night,” said she, before Lee could open his mouth to make an explanation of his presence, “and Mr. Gretzinger’s taking me.  He just came.  Sorry you chose to-night to call, Lee.  And we’re starting immediately.”  She reached forth and gave Lee a pat on the cheek, at the same time smiling.

Bryant continued stony under the touch, under the smile, under the false affection.  He gazed at her and detected beneath her apparent good spirits and loveliness a suppressed excitement.  His glance went to Gretzinger; the man was observing them with a restless, frowning face.  On the instant the truth flashed into Bryant’s brain.  She was cunningly playing him off against the New Yorker, using him as a lay figure in her despicable game, bestowing endearments to anger Gretzinger and arouse his jealousy.